London Towne
by TopHat
Summary: When Scarlett's adopted grandfather is shot off his horse by terrorists she abandons the Joe team in order to help her grandfather but soon she discovers that the tables have been turned. Chapter 8 is uploaded!
1. Prolouge: A Trip to Paris

HI everyone! I'm back! Thanks to those precious few (you know who you are) who actually took the time to read and review Ghosts. I'm still working on it, have no fear. I'll probably post a couple chapters for this story before finishing up Ghosts but keep tuned! This, like the title says, is merely a prologue, a way of getting the story started. Read, please review, and enjoy! Comments are always welcome: TopHat1945@hotmail.com 

London Towne

Prologue: A Mission in Paris 

The Joes are all getting ready to attend a party. The French government had agreed to lend financial support to the G. I. Joe team to fight terrorism. This all came about after the Joes thwarted a Cobra attempt to take over their country. Hawk was to be the honored guest and the Joes were there to help bolster security. In addition, Hawk was thinking about granting them a week's leave or light duty at the least. It would be good for him to stick around and get the ball rolling in the right direction. Duke and Flint would be needed at a few of the meetings but the rest of the team that was here would have nothing to do and being at loose ends would only give Hawk something else to worry about. Best to give them a little time off so they could get back to base relaxed and ready for any challenge Cobra was willing to throw their way. 

Scarlett and Lady Jaye are in their hotel room getting ready for the party that night that was to celebrate the coming together of two nations to fight terrorism. Jaye had been thrilled to learn after successfully battling the Cobra force once again that there was to be a party in celebration of their success. It didn't really matter that Hawk was the only one getting recognition. Jaye was excited at the opportunity for a little down time. Especially if that meant getting some time alone with her boyfriend. And it wouldn't hurt if she and Flint could somehow work it out that Duke and Scarlett would be spending some time together-alone-without Hawk threatening to kick anyone off the team that "dabbled" with fraternization, and without the other members of the team turning Scarlett into "just one of the guys". When the four of them were together Scarlett didn't have to be "just one of the guys" and she certainty didn't act like that when she and Duke were alone, the few times they were actually alone for more than five minutes. Jaye remembered the time Scarlett and Duke came back from Asia. Something was different between them. A barrier had been broken and they could actually see each other as something more than a friend. The problem, as far as Jaye saw it anyways, was that one barrier broken through was just not enough. Duke especially had problems thinking of involving himself with Scarlett, no matter how much he wanted to, in a relationship that was something other than work or friendship. Scarlett was getting tired of coming close to breaking through only to have him come up short in the end. If something didn't happen soon Jaye was afraid her friend would give up hope and move on to find another guy. 

"How's it coming honey? Need any help? The guys will be here in fifteen minutes."

"No they won't. Flint knows you well enough to know that just because you say you're going to be ready at a certain time doesn't necessarily mean you will. And tonight that's a good thing because I'm not ready get." 

Jaye walks to the bathroom to see what's taking her friend so long. Scarlett, on the few occasions she couldn't weasel her way out of getting dressed up in formal attire, kept it to a minimum. Her view was that she was there to work, not schmooze, that was Hawk's job and he was welcome to it.

"Wow." That was all Jaye could get out. Her friend had pulled out all the stops. She was wearing a long white evening gown, with thin little spaghetti straps, fitted, but not to the point that she would have to hobble if she wanted to move, the neck line was low but just at the point where it was enticing, not off the rack. She had curled her hair and pinned it up with hair sticks, letting one or two curls escape. "You look…"

"Is that all you can say? I look…. Good I hope. That's what I've spent the last hour or two going for."

"I'm speechless honey, you look absolutely gorgeous. Duke is going to be floored."

"Good." She replied pointedly 

"I take it that he is the point of all this?" 

Scarlett replies quite seriously: "Jaye, I've waited years for him to get over whatever obstacles are in the way of the two of us entering into a relationship. It would be good-maybe better than good, maybe perfect. He knows it and he knows that all he has to do is ask. I've made it abundantly clear that I'm interested. Tonight is his last chance. I'm pulling out all the stops. If he's interested enough then he'll let me know. If not then I'm tired of waiting. He has to decide if I'm worth risking his career over. I'm not waiting _anymore_. I love him, I want to be with him, but I can only wait for so long."

"Well, you can only be expected to hang around for so long and he's a fool if he doesn't choose you. You look beautiful and tonight you are going to knock him off his feet. Put your shoes on, I'm going to get Flint and head down. You two could use a few minutes to yourself." Jaye gave her friend a quick, tight hug before she left to collect Flint.

Flint opened the door to find his girlfriend waiting on the other side, just about to knock. "Hey, I was just coming to get you. You okay? What's up?"

Jaye let it all out in a rush: "We have a problem. She not waiting any longer, not that she needs to mind you. He's had plenty of opportunity but he always refuses to acknowledge what's between them. He refuses to take the challenge."

"What are you talking about?"

"Duke."

"Duke not taking a challenge? Are we talking about the guy in there getting ready, Duke, the guy who routinely saves the world from destruction, my best friend?"

"Yes, your best friend. And he's about to blow it with my best friend."

"Uh, oh. So this is a Duke & Scarlett problem." 

"Flint, I'm worried. She was serious-if he doesn't ask her tonight then that's it. Any chance of the two of them ever getting together is gone. She loves Duke and he loves her but she can only wait so long for him to admit it."

"Your right, he does love her. He's just been worried about his career. It's important to him."

"I know it's important to him but… wait… you said it's _been_ a problem. Does that mean that it's not a problem any more?" 

"I'll talk to him, make sure he knows it's now or never. He told me the other day he didn't know what his problem had been. I'll just make sure he tells her tonight and then that's it. We've got to stay out of it and let them work through it."

"Deal." 

Flint went back into the apartment, leaving Jaye outside for a moment, to talk to Duke. "If you love her then you've got to tell her. Women are funny that way. If you don't act fast you loose them, especially the good ones, and trust me Scarlett's one of the best." 

"Tell Jaye not to worry. I'm hers if she'll have me. If it comes down to it then I'd rather quit the Joes and be with her than lead the Joes without her." 

"Good luck." He slaps his friend on the back; "I'm taking Allie down to the party. I'll run a security check when I get there. When the two of you get down radio me and I'll give you an update."

Flint and Lady Jaye went down to the party and Duke went to collect Scarlett. 

When she answers the door Duke is speechless. All he can do is wonder why he waited so long. As they rode the elevator down to the party he couldn't take his eyes off her, he only hoped he could find the right words before the night was over. 

Late into the night Scarlett has had enough of the party and heads down to the koi pond for a little peace. She is close enough to the party to hear if there is trouble but far enough that all but the music from the band is lost to the night. 

Later Duke's shift ends and he goes to find her. "Company that bad?" he jokes, coming up to stand behind her

"Not anymore." She replies softly with a smile. She gets up and stands next to him. "Shift over?" 

"Yeah, everyone is gone back home/where they came from. The boys are breaking out the hard stuff." 

"Gonna join them?" she looks up at him

"Only if you are." 

She laughs, "Take a walk?" she asks putting her champagne glass down on the rim of the Koi pond.

"Lead the way." He answers as he tucks her hand through his arm. 

"I didn't get a dance you know?" he tells her as they make their way down a path. 

"As I recall you had your hands full." She answers with a sly smile.

"You could have rescued me." He tells her as she turns and faces him stepping closer and lacing her arms behind his neck. 

"Now what fun would that have been?" she asks softly looking into his eyes. His eyebrow lifts a notch in question. 

She laughs, "Well, since you did forego a beer bash to spend time with me, you can have your dance now. " 

"Oh, really?" 

"Yeah." So they dance and he pulls her close for a kiss. His hand follows her cheek up to her hair and moves to pull her hair sticks. She steps back. "Do you have any idea how long it took me to get my hair up this way?" 

"No. And I really don't care either." Their eyes meet and a silent communication passes between them. 

"Well, I do. I don't want to loose these you know. They're special." 

"Special how?"

"Special because someone special gave them to me." 

"They were given because that someone thought you were special." 

Looking into her eyes he could remember the first time he had seen those things. To him they looked like silver chopsticks. Something interesting to him but only enough to warrant a passing glance. He and Scarlett had been walking around, taking in the sights and sounds of an Asian market. They were trying to blend in, be normal tourists, all the while looking for Cobra agents. They had found plenty but not that day. That day _had_ been special. The evil of the world had taken a vacation. It had seemed to Duke that the universe had shrunk until it contained just the two of them; friends at that point but already realizing that there was something so much more waiting just beneath the surface for the next perfect moment. The moment she had seen those chopsticks her whole face had lit up. She had seen beyond their surface to what they could be. He remembered being mesmerized by the light in her eyes. He asked her what was so special about a pair of chopsticks. She told him she had seen a pair like those in a museum in Scotland. They had been engraved in a way that combined Celtic tradition with oriental craftsmanship. She explained that what had touched her was the story or legend that had accompanied the chopsticks. 

A Scottish merchant had traveled to the Orient and had bought the pair to bring to his fiancé. The merchant found a craftsman and commissioned an intricate engraving that would combine the magic of the orient with what was most familiar to him-his home. The merchant explained that they were to be a gift to his fiancé. The craftsman understood that the merchant loved this girl with a pure heart and so created a design that would welcome the young girl into this man's heart. When the merchant came back he was amazed at what the craftsman had created. Beyond the man's wildest dreams the chopsticks were perfect. In a design that combined the man's family crest with the wonders of the orient he was sure his fiancé would love them. When the merchant arrived at home his fiancé was waiting for him on the docks. After a fevered kiss he reached into his coat and pulled out a gift wrapped in white cloth and presented it to his love. She glanced at him in wonder but began to unwrap the package as he asked. When she pulled on the last string and a pair of engraved silver sticks tumbled out into her hand she gasped in surprise and delight. She wore them on her wedding day as a sign of their love. The legend goes on to say that because of the depth of their love they were blessed forever. 

Duke came back later and bought them for her. He asked the merchant if there was any way he could get the chopsticks engraved. The man of course thought Duke was being a typical American-insane but wealthy and willing to spend that wealth. The merchant's brother turned out to be a craftsman and was all to willing to take Duke's money and engrave the chopsticks-one with the O' Hara family crest and the other with a smiling dragon. He had given them to her their last day in the city. She had actually kissed him. He had stood there stunned for what had seemed to him hours after she had turned and gone, when it was actually merely minutes before it started raining and awakened him from his daze. Things had never quite been the same between them since. He wanted tonight to be the night they broke down the invisible barriers between them. 

"Duke..." he heard his name being called and realized that once again he had lost himself in her eyes. 

She smiled up at him and brought her right hand to wave in front of his face. He caught her hand and brought to his lips. 

"You're cold." He stated 

"Really? I hadn't really noticed until now."

"How about a drink?"

"How about a glass of whiskey?"

"If you think the bartender has it, I'll buy it." 

She laughed, "Follow me."

"Wait." He caught her hand as she turned to walk back up the path. "I'll give you my jacket." He had it half way off his shoulders before he realized he was still armed. They both laughed. "I doubt if hotel security would look fondly upon me walking in like this." 

"I think you could get around it, but a glass of whiskey will go a long way towards warming me up. And if I'm still cold once we're inside, then you can give me your jacket and I'd gladly accept it."

They walk hand in hand up the path to the hotel, get in an elevator and ride to their floor. Scarlett pulls out a key from somewhere in her dress. 

"Now I'd love to know where that was hidden." 

"Mind your manners." She scolded him with a laugh

She opened the door and let him go in first. 

"No roommate tonight?" he asked

She laughed, "She's at your place." 

"Ah." Was all he could say. 

"What, no comment? No reprimand?" 

"I've made my peace with their relationship. They're in love, they both know the risks and if they're willing to jeopardize their careers to be together then they should. 

She cocked her head to one side and studied his face, needing to know if he was making a joke. Deciding that he was serious, she felt her hopes rise and went to the closet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. 

"Funny place for a bar, don't you think?"

"Maybe so, but we serve only the best." Scarlett proudly holds up a bottle of whiskey. 

Duke laughs, "How long have you had that?" 

"Long enough." She replies, grapping two glasses and opening the balcony door. 

Duke stepped out after her. They stood side by side for a moment just taking in the sight of Paris at night. 

"It's a beautiful sight, but won't you get cold wearing just that dress?" 

"Well, if the whiskey isn't up to the challenge then I'll just take you up on the offer of your jacket." She pours them both a glass 

"Here." She hands him a glass. "What shall we toast to?" 

"Old friendships with new beginnings." 

"To new beginnings." 

They talk for an hour or more before the temperature drops enough for Duke to notice his complain does indeed have chill bumps running up her arms. He sets down his empty glass and takes hers out of her hand and sets it down on the table next to his. 

"Here no one to complain this time." He slips off his tux jacket, drapes it over her shoulders and pulls her close. 

She looks up and he kisses her-long, slow and deep. He pulls her hair free from its pins and runs his hands through her hair. He takes the pins and puts them in his jacket pocket. "For safe keeping." 

He brings her close and sighs, "I've waited a long time to do that."

"I've waited a long time for you get up the nerve."

They kiss again -just like the first time only much sweeter. 

She leads him back into the room and shrugs out of his jacket. She leans down and lies on the bed pulling him down after her. He looks up with a questioning glance. She just smiles and kisses him. They make love long into the night. 

Duke wakes up to the smell of coffee. He opens his eyes and sees Scarlett sitting on the bed next to him wearing his shirt and holding a steaming cup of coffee. 

"Rise and shine. One cup is all you get." 

He raises an eyebrow at her. "Forget where you are?" she asks him

He replies with a wry smile, "No. I remember quite vividly." 

She smiles back at him, "Good, now drink up. You're going to need this." 

He takes the coffee, "What's the rush? In a hurry to get rid of me?" 

"Oh, no. If it was up to me, we'd stay sequestered up here for at least the next week." 

"Then what's the rush?" 

"One-Jaye called and everyone has to be down in the conference room in twenty minutes. Hawk has called a meeting."

"Twenty minutes!" he swallows the rest of the coffee and puts the empty cup on the bedside table as he jumps up and starts the search for his clothes. For the most part they're in a pile at the end of the bed. 

As Duke gets dressed Scarlett goes on, "Reason number two-the hotel only serves breakfast for so long. And if we want anything to eat before the meeting we have to get it in the next fifteen minutes. Reason number three-I want to check out the bridge we saw last night when we were standing on the balcony." 

Duke has finished getting dressed and is up again in search of his shirt. "Missing something?" She asks standing up so she's facing him. And with her gaze not wavering from his she slowly begins to undo the buttons on his shirt; one button at a time until all the buttons were undone. She slides the shirt off and holds it out for him to take. 

Duke stands there thinking of all the things he would rather be doing right now than taking his shirt away from Scarlett so he could run to his room, shower and change into his work clothes. "Don't tempt me." He growls and gives her a swift kiss before running out the room. "Meet me in ten minutes down stairs and I'll buy you a quick breakfast."

Duke passes Lady Jaye on the way down the hall to his room. She grins at him, taking in his disheveled appearance and knocks before she enters the room she is sharing with Scarlett, rather than barging in like she'd like to do.

"Well, I see someone got lucky last night." Jaye commented noticing that although Scarlett was now wearing a robe it was doubtful she had anything on under the robe. 

"Yes." Scarlett answered softly with a smile, "Someone got very lucky." She stood by the balcony door looking out across the city. The day was new and alive with the promise of things to come.


	2. A Friend in Trouble

Hi everyone! Here we go with Chapter 1. Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Special thanks to my editors: Tracy (who is happy that I'm finally writing 'her' story) & Lydia (for the silly comments…). Happy Birthday Shana-hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the previous one! Last but not least, I don't own G.I. Joe, more's the pity, I do own my original characters. Reviews, and comments, are welcome: TopHat1945@hotmail.com Read and Enjoy! 

London Towne

Chapter 1: A Friend in Trouble

          Things had been good since the Joe team returned from their mission in Paris. Hawk was constantly in meetings with organizations that wanted to give financial support in their fight against Cobra. The terrorist organization had finally stepped on one too many toes and the Joes were profiting from it. Cobra had been quiet for a while, both a good and bad thing. Good because it allowed the Joes a little down time and the intelligence teams time to prepare for the next bout. Of course, the bad side was that, usually, when the Snakes are quiet this long it meant they were planning something big. 

As for Duke and Scarlett things have continued to go well. Their relationship is progressing at a pace satisfying to them both. They're not flaunting their new relationship but neither are they attempting to hide it. Hawk and Duke are at another meeting in D.C. and Flint is on vacation with Lady Jaye, leaving Beach Head in charge. 

          Two days before Duke is scheduled to return Scarlett, Wild Bill, Gung Ho, and Ace have gone out drinking. Scarlett's beeper goes off. 

          "Tell whoever it is that you're out with your boyfriends and to shove off!" Ace told Scarlett

          "Yeah, we're just about ready to start a new game and you're the one with the money!" Bill joined in the chorus 

          "I'll just be a minute.  It's a D.C. area code." She told her campanions

          "Give my regards to Duke!" Ace called after her as she left the table

          "Whatever!" she called back

          Scarlett made her way to the bank of pay phones at one end of the bar and dialed the number on her beeper. Someone picked up on the first ring. "Hi!" she greeted who she thought was Duke on the phone

          "It's nice to know we're still on speaking terms, for now at least." The voice came back

          A cold dread came over Scarlett, "Stevens. What's wrong?"

          "Mr. McCullough has been injured.  I have been requested to inform you that your presence is requested on his behalf."

          She gasped, "Grandfather? What happened? Where is he? Will he be all right?"

          "He was shot earlier this morning. Mr. McCullough is in intensive care at a London hospital. The doctors seem hopeful. The bullet missed most everything vital."

          "I'm not on base. It'll take me twenty minutes to get there and then I've got to get permission from the C.O. ."

          "Will that be a problem?"

          "How long will I be gone?"

          "It was a sniper-and not one sent by a disgruntled bookie."

          "I'll call you when I get back to base."

          Scarlett hurries back to the table. "Who has the keys?" 

          "You're not ready to leave yet, are you? The fun's just started!"

          "I've got to go! Give me the keys!."

          Bill noticed that something wasn't quite right with his friend. "What's wrong?" 

          "My grandfather. He's been shot. He's an old man and I need to get back to base so I can get emergency leave."

          In the care, on the way back to base, Scarlett tried numerous times to get patched through to Beach Head. Each time she tried she was unsuccessful. One way or another she had to get to grandfather. He needed her. When one of her friends pressed for details she told them all she knew, that grandfather had been shot and was in the hospital, and that she couldn't get any straight answers as to his condition. That shut everyone up. When doctors started dancin' around, avoiding a straight answer, something was up. And that something was not usually well received.

          When Scarlett and the Joes arrive back at base they go in search of Beach Head. They find him in the midst of a poker game-one in where he was winning. Beach Head is still reluctant to speak with Scarlett until she barges in and clears all the money off the table. "I need emergency leave. My grandfather is in the hospital."

          "Will you get our of here?! We're in the middle of something important!"

          "This is more important. I need you to grant me emergency leave. My grandfather is in the hospital and I need to be with him."

          Beach Head grabbed the money back, threw it on the table, and grabed Scarlett by the arm. 

          "I wouldn't care if the pope himself walked in here right now and told me the fart was on his death bead. Hawk said no one was to leave. I'm in charge right now so you'd better believe that I'm not letting you off this base. For all I know you'd be headed to meet your boyfriend. Now get out of here!" He slammed the door in her face. 

          Scarlett turned from the now shut and locked door, deciding it would be usless for her to pound her fists on the door, or try and break it in. 

          Bill and the others were waiting a few feet away, ready to help in any way they could. 

"If you need me to, I'll fly you to Atlanta." 

          "Thanks Bill, but I'm hoping that won't have to happen." 

          "What can we do?" Ace asks her 

          "Nothing. Go back to your quarters or go get something to eat. I have to make some phone calls." 

          She calls Stevens and reports.

"Stevens?"

          "Who else would answer this phone?"

          "I can't get leave."

          "What do you mean, 'you can't get leave'?"

          "All the C.O. s are gone and Beach Head is in charge. He doesn't think that a family emergency warrants immediate leave.  I don't know what to do!  Bill offered to fly me to Atlanta but I've got a hunch you're not in Atlanta, are you?"

          "Don't fret."

          "Don't FRET! What else am I supposed to do? I've only got one choice, if I can't convince Beach Head to let me go, I'll have to resign."

          Stevens laughed low, as if he had a private joke no one else knew about, "Not necessarily Angel, not necessarily."

          "I don't like the sound of that… I'm happy here. I don't want to leave." She told him firmly

          He chuckled again, "Pack Angel. Blood is stronger than friendship."

          "He may be family, but he's not blood."

          "Decide Angel, he pulled you out when there was no one else."

          Scarlett remembered lying in a hospital bed day after day, night after night, knowing she would never again be allowed to see her friends, wondering what would happen to them. Wondering what would happen to her, would they just forget, would they come after her? She didn't know. All she knew was that she was not able to leave the hospital on her own. Someone from the outside would have to come and fetch her. Stacy had come after Toby, but there was no one left to come after her. Or so she thought until that fateful day Stevens wandered into her room with new clothes and an offer at a new life. She took it without looking back. Slowly, with Stevens help she recovered from the cold that had nearly taken Toby's life and her left foot. After a few scant weeks she was downgraded to a cane. Grandfather and Elliot had in time come to be dear friends-a home, shelter from the cold world of intrigue. They had saved not only her body, but, her soul. They loved her unconditionally, like family, and she had come to love them the same. The years she had spent working for Elliot were good years. She enjoyed the intelligence game once again-perhaps because when things got to be too much there was solace in an old man's smile. Whatever the reason she got her edge back and still had it. She owed the old man more than she could ever repay and she knew that no matter what the consequences were she could not just leave him to die in the cold world that he had once dragged her from. 

          "I'll come, but I'm not sure how to get to you."

          "I'll be there in a few hours. I'll have transfer orders with me. Pack what you need for the night. If you're gone long enough they'll forward your clothes and things to Atlanta. We'll intercept them if the time comes. Anything sensitve either bring with you or send to Rodger. He'll safe keep it for you until the time comes for you leave us once again." With that cryptic message, he hung up. 

          Scarlett packed two duffles-one with a variety of clothes, mostly hers, but a few high ticket items she was "borrowing" from Allie. She hoped she'd have the opportunity to return them. The second duffle contained her laptop, two hand guns, spare clips, and a variety of toiletries that would turn her into any one of the women smiling back from the numerous passport and identification papers she had in the bag.  All there was left to do was write a note telling Duke and Allie what had happened. She wrote down the essential details-Grandfather shot.  Must leave.  Will be in touch. Love, Scarlett. She was sure Bill and the others would fill everyone in on the details.  

          A few hours later, at the designated time, Scarlett left her room and traveled down the halls to the tarmac, bags in hand. Stevens was several things, one of those things was being annoyingly, at times, punctual. Although in this case she certainly understood that time was of the essence. She didn't know what was going on but she was sure it was more than a simple shooting. Stevens wouldn't have bothered her if it were that. 

          She heard a helicopter in the distance, "Right on time." She said softly.

 The helicopter arrived in Joe air space and all hell broke loose. Several Joes came out rushing out of the building ready for a fight as the unknown helicopter prepared to land on the tarmac. 

"How'd it get so close with out us noticing!" someone shouted

"That doesn't matter, you idiot! We got to get rid of it!" someone answered.

 Several other Joes ran past her, preparing to fend off an attack.  Snake Eyes and Timber came up to stand beside her. 

          "It's not like you to sneak off." He signed

          "I can't tell you what's really going on. Just that I have to leave and I hope you'll understand."

          "I understand, some of the others I fear, will not."

          A silent tear ran down her cheek. She wiped the tear away with the back of her hand before she turned to face him.  But whatever she said was lost in the wind as the helicopter touched down and opened its doors. Stevens ran towards her as a group of soldiers defended the helicopter.  Angel took his hand and allowed herself to be lead to the helicopter, away from the Joes. 

          Later, if asked, the Joes would of course deny the fact that they somehow allowed an unknown helicopter to touch down and take off with one of their own. It hadn't happened that way-they were seasoned professionals-used to taking on Cobra-there was no way a piddly little assault team beat them. Some would testify that Scarlett had turned traitor-that she was dressed in civilian clothes waiting on the chopper to touch down. Others claimed that she had been kidnapped. Others still, claimed that the chopper wasn't really a chopper at all but clever disguise by Cobra to cover up some new weapon. Bill, Ace, and Gung Ho, explained Scarlett's story as best they could. But still, not even they could tell Duke what had really happened. They themselves didn' t know. When asked if he knew anything, Snake Eyes would merely shrug his shoulders in a gesture of helplessness. He could tell Duke what he alone knew Scarlett had said moments before the chopper took off with her in it. But he wasn't at all sure they would be a comfort. "I'm sorry." Two simple words that could mean so many things. He wished his friend well on whatever journey she was now on. 


	3. A Problem

Hey, everybody! Here we go with Chapter 2. Sorry it took so long, lots of pesky little details to work out. Thanks to my two great editors, Lydia & Tracy, and to my one faithful reviewer, Shauna.  I unfortunately don't own the Joes but I do own my original characters, as strange as some of those will be in future chapters. There is a little box down at the end of the story-If you read this story, I would dearly love for you to write a two second review. Any and all encouragement is well received. 

London Towne

Chapter 2: A Problem

  The helicopter landed on the tarmac. As Duke and Hawk got off the chopper Duke scanned the tarmac for Scarlett. He didn't find her, what he did find was what looked like the remnants of a recent battle. 

  Hawk came to a dead stop next to his second, "What the hell happened?  We didn't receive any reports on a Cobra battle!" 

  "There's Flint, if he's back from his vacation early then he'll know what happened." 

  Flint snapped to salute as Hawk walked up "Well man, do you have an explanation for this?!" 

  "No sir, I do not." 

  "What the hell do you mean, no?!" 

  "Hawk, Flint has been on vacation, it's likely that whatever happened took place when he was off base."

  "Well son, is that true?"

  "Yes, sir. I can give you a preliminary report on what I have been able to uncover thus far. I've only been back a little more than 24 hours."

  Hawk didn't like his answer, "You were under specific orders to report any unusual Cobra activity. An attack on base falls under that category!"

  "It wasn't Cobra."

  Both Hawk and Duke stood dumbfounded, if not Cobra, then who could do this kind of damage?

  They both jumped to conclusions at the same time, "Where's shipwreck?" they asked

  "I'm sorry to report that Shipwreck isn't responsible for this."

  "Then who the hell is?" Duke asked

  "Let's go to your office, things will be quieter there and I'm sure you could both use a cup of coffee." 

  "Very well Flint, my office." Hawk agreed

  After they were settled in to Hawk's office Duke noticed that Flint wouldn't meet his eye. That was a bad sign, a very bad sign. 

  "Where is she?" he asked

  Flint's shoulders drooped as he poured yet another cup of coffee, this was his eleventh cup in as many hours.  He turned to Duke and looked him straight in the face, "I don't know." 

  Duke was right; it had been a bad sign. "Explain."

  "From my understanding, and I wasn't here at the time so this is a conglomerate of stories, approximately 24 hours ago an unmarked helicopter dropped in below our radar level and landed on the tarmac. A battle followed, at sometime during the battle, several Joes saw Scarlett in the helicopter. Just after she got in, the assault team that accompanied the helicopter loaded back into the helicopter, which then took off.  When I returned from vacation, Lady Jaye brought this to my attention."

  He handed Duke a note that read similar to a telegraph, "Grandfather shot. Must leave. Will be in touch. Love, Scarlett." 

  Duke handed the note to Hawk, scarcely believing what he had just read. Gone. Good God, what was he going to do now? He wondered.

  "Anything else?" Hawk asked

  Flint hesitated a moment before answering, "Yes. This."

Flint handed Hawk what looked to Duke like transfer orders. 

  Hawk read them aloud, "Shauna 'O Hara is to be transferred to General Peters command. Effective immediately." 

Hawk summarized what he had learned upon his return to base, "What we know for a fact is an unknown helicopter landed here, on base, two days ago, and Scarlett has not been see since. We have orders that transfer her from the Joe team to another command. These orders have a beginning date of two days ago but they don't have an ending date. Is there anything else we know for a fact?"

"What we know, facts only, not rumors-we haven't pinned enough of them down yet to discuss them, is that Scarlett received a call to her beeper two days ago, while she was out with Bill, Ace, and Gung Ho, several hours before the helicopter landed on base.  She told them her grandfather had been shot- her note confirms that much. Several Joes claim that she was on the helicopter when it took off. What we don't know is whether or not her phone call is in any way related to the helicopter or her disappearance. Nor do we know when she disappeared, if it was before the helicopter arrived, during the ensuing battle, such as it was, or if it was afterwards." 

"What have you learned by talking to people?  I'm concerned about how this helicopter was able to find, land, and hold off an attack on our base without our knowledge."

"I've got several people investigating Scarlett's disappearance and the helicopter. So far we haven't come up with much. I've told you the only facts we have, I've tried with out much success to get a hold of her family and her new commander."

"I can probably track down this General Peters. He's not army, or I'd know of him already. I'll give it a try. I want a written report on my desk in one hour detailing what you know and what's been going on with your investigation." 

"Yes sir."  Duke and Flint left Hawk's office 

Flint came to check on his friend later that afternoon and found Duke pacing his office. "I brought you some lunch. I figured you hadn't eaten anything yet." Duke mumbles thanks.  

 "She's obviously got a knack for consuming your thoughts." Duke thought his friend had suddenly developed a penchant for stating the obvious. 

He recalled staring out into space as the helicopter lifted off the tarmac headed towards Washington. Hawk had turned to him and asked, "Something on your mind, Duke?" 

He had replied succinctly, "The Artic." And then softer, "The Artic." What else was there to say, "Hey there General, I'm thinking about the Artic because what I'd really like to be thinking about would get me and her into more trouble than we'd be able to get out of." 

Duke turned to Flint, "Yeah, you could say that. What happened Flint? What the hell happened?" 

  "Were working on that." He replied and turned to leave, knowing the only that would help his friend now would be to find out what had happened. 

Duke was thinking.  He was sitting at his desk looking at Bill and Ace whom Flint had, for some reason, brought to his office for fighting.  This was just adding to Duke's frustration. Two of his men, who had never been such a discipline problem before, were making trouble now when he most needed their cooperation. Duke was wondering what had happened to his life.  Up until two days ago his life was great. He had a great job that he loved, a great girl whom he loved even more, and what was especially good was that she loved him just as much as he loved her. He remembered the last time he saw her, slipping out of his bed to give him a good sound kissing before he left for the meeting in Washington. She had developed a talent for making him late. He wished she were here to make him late again. 

"Alright, what happened?"

Flint spoke up first, "They were apparently 'defending' Scarlett's honor, since she isn't here at the moment to defend it herself-their exact words."

"In what manner?" Duke asked, suddenly realizing Flint had brought them here for a reason; they must know something Flint thought was connected to her disappearance. 

"Leatherneck opened his mouth and called Scarlett a traitor. We told him to take it back, he wouldn't so we dealt with it."   

Duke sat up a little straighter, "Why would he call Scarlett a traitor? Does it have anything to do with the reports that Scarlett left with the helicopter?"

Bill and Ace looked at each other wondering what, if anything, they should tell Duke. Yeah, he was as fond of Scarlett as the next guy, even more, but he was still an officer and as such he had certain duties he must fulfill; one of those being to investigate potential traitors. They knew Scarlett wasn't anything of the sort, but they didn't actually have any evidence and they had to admit that her behavior was a little odd. 

Flint prodded them with a glance, "Go on, tell Duke what I heard you tell Snake Eyes." 

Bill started, "We were all sittin' 'round the table have a drink and playin' cards when her beeper went off. She thought it was you so she scurried over to the pay phone. It turned out not to be you after all, but someone, I'm guessin' Breaker, callin' to tell her that her grandfather had been shot. I guess he wasn' doin' too good 'cause she sure was worried about him. We took off back to base but when we got here Beach Head wouldn't grant her leave. I offered to fly her to Atlanta, but she told me she might be able to swing something else."

  Ace took over the story then, "Yeah, she wasn't too thrilled with the idea of getting us into trouble.  I figure she knew she was headed into trouble and didn't want to drag us down with her."

"That was the last time we saw her. But no matter when she left or how, Scarlett had a good reason-and it's not 'cause she turned traitor!" 

That was certainly something to think about. Someone saw her get on the helicopter, she left a note saying she had to leave, the transfer orders were sitting on his desk, could she have somehow managed to get transferred to someone high enough up in the military that could pick her up within hours, with transfer orders, which was apparently her only course of action other than to just resign, and then take her to see her grandfather? If she had then what kind of deal had she made? A hope sprang up inside him, what if she wasn't here because she couldn't be here? That was at the moment his favorite solution to the problem of her disappearance. And if she couldn't be here because her grandfather was injured then finding her could be as simple as finding her father. Of course, if this grandfather was an old intelligence contact, someone that had pulled her out of the fire before, someone she felt she owed something to, perhaps her life.  Then her father wouldn't talk even if he knew how to find her or what was really going on. But, all bases had to be covered. 

Duke turned to Flint, "Get your investigative team in here. It's time we find out exactly what happened. And then, call a meeting for one hour from now." 

Flint left and Duke started asking Bill and Ace questions; questions like, "Why do you think she was headed into trouble?" and "Do you know for sure that Breaker beeped her?"  

He didn't like the idea of Scarlett turning traitor, basically he thought it was about the dumbest idea he had ever heard. Besides loving her job and feeling like she belonged to a family here, there was her relationship with him to consider. He didn't doubt Scarlett's expertise as an intelligence office, he himself had seen her pull off some amazing cover stories, but he didn't believe for an instant that she had been playing him. After personal reasons there were just too many loose ends that needed explaining.

Duke dismissed Bill and Ace and went to the control room to talk to Breaker, but before he did that, he was going to have a little talk with Beach Head. 

Flint met Duke coming out of the control room. "What did you find out?" 

"Let's meet your team in my office. I'll fill you in on the way.  I found out that Breaker didn't receive any calls from Atlanta, or anywhere else for that matter, to tell Scarlett her grandfather was in the hospital. Furthermore, he didn't call or speak to Scarlett at any time that evening. No calls came in for her and no calls went out. That means whoever called her had access to her beeper number. That's classified and she knows better than to give it out. The only reason I have it is because I'm the one that suggested all essential personnel can be reached at any time."

Flint responded, "If she didn't give the number out then who called and how did they get the number?" 

  "I don't know. It's one of the many things I've had trouble with since I learned she had magically disappeared. Transfer orders or not, I'm not satisfied that she would just up and leave like that, even if it was important."

 Flint's team was waiting in Duke's office when they got there. 

"Okay people, I know you like this as much as I do so let's pool information and see what we've found out." 

No one would meet his eyes. "Alright, then we start backwards.  We can assume, since she left a note, that she left willingly. We can also assume that at the time it was her last resort. It bothers me that within hours of her phone call she was transferred to another assignment. Hawk is checking that end of this mess. There are too many loose ends! He slammed his fist on the table. She left a note but she didn't put in for leave in advance so this was something unexpected. We need to make sure that no one from Base called her. Who's covering that?"

Breaker raised his hand, "That's my job. I've been going through the phone records.  Mainframe is already planning to disassemble her computer, do an email trace.  We're covering anything that she would have used to contact someone outside base and means that someone from the outside would use."

"Good, make sure you check her cell phone. Flint, you told me you and Jaye had put together a list of things she was working on."

Flint reported what he had learned," Jaye has been working on getting in touch with her family, no luck there, is that still accurate Jaye?" 

"So far no luck. I've tried her father and brothers as well as other emergency contact people. No one is answering their phones."

Flint continued, "I'm putting together a detailed list of everything she was working on; that includes projects, other people on those projects.  Anybody could have information and just not think it's important."

Jaye picked up the thread; "Scarlett has a lot of friends on base. I don't know any of her outside contacts personally but I'm going to start fishing after Flint and I talk to everyone on base."

"Has someone put together a list of her previous assignments?"

Flint responded in a hard tone, "Beach Head is working on that."

"What have you discovered?"

"I haven't discovered anything that seems to point in any specific direction. I'm still working on it."

Duke noticed the tension in the room but decided it could wait until later.  

"Jaye, since you are planning on contacting her friends outside of the Joe team I want you to help Beach Head come up with a very detailed dossier of her previous assignments, that's pre-Joe team. I want to know if she still keeps in touch with any of her old contacts. It's possible they might be able to lead us to someone who would know about General Peters.  We've already verified that the transfer orders are authentic but we don't have any details about who this General is or why he would go to such trouble to get Scarlett on his team. You all have your assignments; I want a report in twelve hours. Flint, call a general meeting.  Everyone not working on the investigation or on duty should be there. Dismissed."

All the Joes not on duty were at the meeting. All were concerned. Some were worried about their friend. A few figured that she had turned traitor. The vast majority who did not countered with "Turned traitor to whom? It certainly wasn't Cobra in that helicopter!" Of course, at the moment no one knew exactly who had been in that chopper, but everyone knew it wasn't Cobra. For one, it was just one their style. It wasn't sneaky or flashy enough. For another, the chopper came with an assault team that merely defended the craft. They didn't deliberately engage the Joe team unless necessary. Most of the bullets they fired missed; all but the last few grenades were only smoke grenades. The entire conflict had been over practically before it started. Everyone shut up as soon as Duke walked in the room. 

"All right people, one of our is missing and we need to know where she is and what the hell happened. All I've heard since I got back from Washington is rumors. What I want now are hard facts. 

Flint has set up investigative teams; he will call them out momentarily. I expect all of you to cooperate with the teams, regardless of your personal feelings on the matter. Anyone with any information should come forward immediately, all others will be interviewed at Flint's disposure." 

Flint and the other Joes assigned to investigate Scarlett's disappearance reported back to Duke twelve hours after the initial meeting to exchange information and decide where to go from there. They were all seated around a conference table. 

Duke started the meeting, "Okay, people, what have we got?"

  Flint went first, "We've sorted through most of the rumors and have come up with couple scenarios. General Hawk is still making calls, trying to determine who this new commanding officer is. Lady Jaye has left messages with Scarlett's brothers and father, so far no answer."

  Lady Jaye spoke up, "Her father knows where she is, or at least knows something. He trusts his daughter but he wouldn't just sit idly by if he thought she was in trouble.  Both sets of her grandparents are deceased; they died shortly before her parents came over from Ireland. Whoever her 'grandfather' is, he's not related to her. That more than likely means her family wouldn't be concerned enough about his well being to up and leave town with out any way of contacting them. I might have better luck if I went down there personally, but baring that, I don't think we're going to get any information out of them. She's probably been in contact with her father by now, she'd tell him that she had been transferred and give him a way of contacting her in case of emergencies; if her father isn't worried then she's okay-whatever she's doing. If he is worried when we get a hold of him then we've got problems."  

"Okay. I agree with Lady Jaye, keep trying, if you can't get in touch with any of them in the next twelve hours then go down there.  Wait, scratch that I want you down there anyways. She's close to her family; they would almost certainly have a method of contact. What do we know about the beeper call she received?" 

Beach Head, his jaw aching from his recent conflict with Duke, took over the report, "Someone outside of base called her beeper. We don't have any way of tracing the call so we don't know who beeped her. There are two possibilities as to how someone outside base got a hold of the number. The first way is she gave it to this person." Seeing the sharp looks cast his way he made quickly reported his second conclusion, "I know how many people like that idea, but it is a possibility. The other possibility is that someone hacked it. Breaker and Mainframe are going through the computers looking for traces of any unauthorized access. I doubt they'll find anything. If somehow, and if I were you, I'd like this possibility even less than her giving the number out, the information was taken from our computer recorders without our knowledge then it's reasonable to assume that any and all information stored in the computer is now in the hands of the hacker. That is an even bigger problem. We don't know anyone with that kind of hacking ability so if the computer was hacked it's likely we've got an unknown entity out there." 

Beach Head scanned the faces sitting around the table; everyone seemed to feel the impact of his last statements. He knew no one would want to admit it, but it was a very real possibility that security had been breached. 

Duke let that thought sink into him for a moment, "Breaker and Mainframe are both working on it?" he asked

Beach Head answered him grimly "Yes, Sir,  top priority." 

  "Then proper security procedures have gone into place. We need a timetable for the night she disappeared and we need to know how the helicopter is connected, too many people saw her on the chopper for us to assume it's not connected.  Stalker, you were working on that angle right?"

  "Yeah, although I haven't learned much.  The helicopter was a Black Hawk. A small, six-man assault team engaged our defenses as the chopper landed. There were no casualties on either side; the assault team was apparently under orders to defend only. There are three different popular versions of when and how Scarlett got on the helicopter. The first version is she ran out with the rest of the team to defend the base and she was taken captive. The second is she fought alongside and disappeared later. The third is she was waiting, in civilian clothes when the helicopter touched down and went willingly with a man dressed in an air force uniform to the helicopter and left with it. My team is still working on cleaning up the videos enough to gather more information off of them.  We do have one clear clip, but it doesn't tell us anything except she left with the helicopter."

  Stalker plugged in a tape and the Joes gathered around the table saw Scarlett, standing just behind one member of the assault team. It appeared that she was dressed in civilian clothes.  


	4. Getting Down to Business

HI everybody! I'm so glad people are enjoying this story-it is so much fun to write! Thanks again to Tracy (Yep, it's us…as incorrigible as ever!) and to Lydia who is a wonderful editor and keeps me on track! Alas, I don't own G.I. Joe, nor am I making any profit off this story. I'm going to try to keep to my one chapter a week goal-at least until chapter 7 is posted-that's all that's written so far. Thanks also to my wonderful reviewers! Reviews really are like bread and butter; so if ya like the story, please take a moment to tell me! Enjoy! 

London Towne

Chapter 3: Getting Down to Business

          Angel changed into one of Allie's suits sometime before the helicopter landed-wherever it landed; the assault team was polite enough, with a little encouragement from Stevens, to look away while she changed. Stevens had filled her with all the information he knew-which wasn't much. He had seen grandfather go down, but didn't realize anything was wrong until the old man didn't get back up. Elliot was with him and Ronnie was keeping tabs on them both. It took several hours for them to get to the hospital grandfather was at. In that time she had had several opportunities to re-immerse herself in the role of Elizabeth McCullough. They changed planes numerous times, all private planes owned by either grandfather or Elliot. Each of those pilots owned at least one of the men their life. They never asked where Ms. Lizzy came from, only if she was in need of their services. This didn't happen unless she wanted to make a splash with the press; she was a good pilot and generally preferred to keep a low profile. This aggravated the press as much as her touch and go interviews at parties. She gave them enough that they didn't swarm her like piranhas-only the paparazzi did that on the few occasions they actually found her-but not enough that the people outside her close social set could honestly say they knew anything about her. The pilots all knew about her grandfather's condition and gave her encouraging smiles. It worried her that Stevens knew so little. Usually, he was Mr. Know-it-all. He could recite chapter and verse virtually anything she ever needed to know about a mission she was on. No, if Stevens didn't know anything more than he was telling her, and she was almost certain he didn't-this time, then they were in deep trouble. 

          By the time she arrived at the hospital she had changed planes, time zones, and passed through customs so many times she lost count. If the Joes managed to track her as far the airport she had first traveled to, then they would loose the trail after that. 

          "We're here Angel." 

          Steven's comment shook her from her reverie. She took his hand as she stepped out of the limo. "Is he still in intensive care?"

          "No. I spoke with Elliot on the plane, the doctors moved him to a private room as soon as he was stable.  As soon as he's stable we need to move him back to the estate. It's more restful, the press won't follow, they're camped outside the hospital at the moment, and the estate is more secure. "

          "Are you sure? After all, he was shot in the country. You're right about the press though, they will make our movements more difficult. The London House is just as secure as the estate."

          "The shooter will come after him again. I have a feeling he's nearby, he was waiting for Mr. McCullough to appear but we don't know why. It's possible we could flush him out."

          "If you think it's best, then that's what we'll do. Ronnie will be closer if we're at the estate." 

          They walked in the hospital, found the appropriate stair well, seasoned professionals, neither one could shake the unease that came from riding in an elevator during a mission, the possibilities of danger were just too great. They walked up to the floor grandfather was now on, and found his room. 

          Angel knocked softly and eased open the door. "Elliot." She said, he being the first one she saw.

          He grinned and the voice she had been longing to hear called her name, "Lizzy?  Is that you?"

          "Grandfather!" she sighed relieved, and walked over to his bed. 

          His Scottish burr was a bit weak and he looked a bit paler than normal, but other than that he was fine. "It's good to see you dear, but you didna need to come all the way from wherever you were just to see an old fuddy-duddy like me."

          She knelt beside his bed "Oh, grandfather, I'd walk to the ends of the Earth to see you, and you may be old, but you're no fuddy-duddy. How are you, really?"

          Elliot answered, "He'll be fine lass, a little worse for wear, but it's not as bad as all that."

          "He was shot!" she replied angrily, "That's not nothing!  And from what I hear, it could have been a lot worse!"

          A flirty feminine voice came from the door, "Don't worry, Lizzy, darling, the old fart will be fine, I have the assurance of his doctor, and I know he wouldn't lie to me." 

          "Ronnie, it's good to see you again!" she moved to hug her friend. 

"I suppose when I'm introduced to this doctor, he'll have your favorite lipstick on his collar and smell of your perfume?" 

          "Cluck, Cluck, dear. I was merely looking out for the best interests of your grandfather, and besides, it's not my fault that every good looking man around here is single."

          "Darling, they're all single where you're concerned.  But it's alright, I forgive you." 

          "Good, because we have a great deal to do if the old fart is leaving in the morning."

          "He can leave in the morning?"

          Grandfather's doctor came in the room, "Assuming his vitals are sill strong, yes.  You must be Ms. McCullough, I'm Doctor Marston." He held out his hand for Angel to shake and then nodded to Ronnie, "Ms. Davenport."  He smiled broadly and yes, Angel noted he had a lipstick smudge on his collar and smelled of her friend's perfume. Too bad he didn't know that Ronnie was just playing. Ronnie was a voluptuous blonde and an incorrigible admirer of the male form-both human and horse-but men were so much more fun to play with. That is why they were Ronnie's hobby and horses were her profession. 

          Ronnie hooked her arm through her friend's, "Come along now dear, let the good doctor check your grandfather out.  The dear man needs rest you know, and he won't get it with you hovering. Besides, you owe me several hours of good tales. The old men, the one you have now, and don't bother to deny it, I can sense these things. You know, you never did tell me what happened with that Arab Sheikh. One day I read an article declaring your intent to marry one of the richest Arabs around and the next week I see that you've flown home to Atlanta very much alone and unengaged.  I imagine he'd make an interesting tea story." Ronnie dragged Angel out of grandfather's room and down to the cafeteria where the two women gossiped until it was time make arrangements for grandfather's return home. 

          "I know the best medical care is in London, Ronnie, but I just can't abide the press. I'm sure grandfather will be fine with Stevens to look after him, and I'll make sure he doesn't try to do too much too soon." 

          "Lizzy darling, if you are relegated to playing nurse maid to the old fart, then who will come and play with me? We've so much to do, I've got a dozen new stallions for you to meet and there will be parties to attend. There's a new neighbor for you to meet, he's quite dashing, perhaps he'd be a good catch for you? No? Oh, well it was worth a thought, perhaps someone taller, a little more muscle…?" she was interrupted by Angel's laughing "What's so funny? You haven't sworn off men, I know you too well for that." 

          "It's nothing, it's just good to be able to sit and talk about trivial things and laugh for once." 

          "Lizzy, men are not trivial. They may be playthings, but they are not trivial. And you know that my stallions won't be trivial. I bought one especially for you. I know how much you're devoted to Midnight, but he's being offered up on stud services in Atlanta, so you needed one to ride while you were here."

          Angel chuckled, it was just like Ronnie, never caring how much a gesture cost, so long as it was appreciated. "All right, tell me about him. I know he'll be tall and gorgeous because you wouldn't buy anything else. He'll probably have a wild streak because you and I both would grow bored with a horse with no spirit. What else?" 

          "His coat is a deep mahogany, and you're right, he's tall, extremely muscular, a wild streak a mile wide, and lord how that horse can jump!  You'll have to help me practice. You and Maverick will make a good team."

          "You mean you're competing again?"

          "Oh, yes. The next big match is in St. Louis, and then we'll have to attend the Triple Crown. You are staying that long, aren't you darling?" 

          Angel was lost in though and didn't hear. St. Louis? Could she do that? Could she go to Duke's hometown? What if she saw him? What if she didn't? What if this mess wasn't wrapped up before then? What then? What the future hold them? Things had been going so well. She remembered the last time she saw him, running out the door, his dress uniform all askew. But who could blame her? He had looked so damn hot all dressed up, and even hotter a few seconds later when that uniform was in a heap on the floor. 

          Ronnie caught her friend smiling, she knew that look, it was one she herself had expressed often while in pursuit of her next gentleman friend. "All right, give. What's his name and what does he look like? He must be good looking because you're smiling like a tigress.  Irish or Scottish? Probably Scottish, tall, dark, and gorgeous; most likely he's rich and has a lovely castle somewhere in the highlands." 

          Angel laughed, "He's tall all right, and he has blue eyes, and he's gorgeous. But you're wrong on your other guesses." She laughed more when her friend's jaw dropped.

          "You mean you've gone and found yourself a bloody American!" she said so loudly other people in the cafeteria stopped their conversations and stared. "That's not like you Lizzy. I can think of only one love interest of yours in the entire time I've known you that wasn't either Irish or Scottish and that was the Sheik. I never even got to meet the man."

          "I didn't plan on it Ronnie. I didn't even plan on having anything to do with the man, but you don't always choose who you love, a foreign enough concept though that may seem to you.  Duke is blonde, and he's a wonderful friend and lover, even if the man closes his eyes every time I get to the cockpit first."

          "So he's a pilot, and he's a duke. Well, he must not be all bad. Does he have any horses? I mean I know he's an American, but he can't be all American if he's a duke. I know! You met him on one of those consulting conferences with the RAF. He must be a pilot in the RAF, that's how you met him isn't it? You showed him one of your plane designs. What do call them? Oh, yes, fighter jets because they fight.  Am I right this time?" 

          Angel was luckily saved from answering when a nurse came to tell her grandfather was being released at this time. 

          Grandfather complained the entire way to the country. Elliot at one point grew tired of his friend's exclamations that he was fine and didn't need to be coddled. Elliot at that point had asked him, quite pointedly, what the hell was the matter with him that when he was seated between the two-lovilest ladies in all of England all he could do was complain about it! That had shut him up. Elliot brooded the rest of the trip, Ronnie filed her nails, seemingly without a care in the world, and Stevens avoided looking at Angel. That annoyed her as much as it worried her and as soon as they were safely sequestered in her grandfather's study she let him have it. 

          "What's going on?" she demanded as soon as Stevens sat down.

          "I assume you are referring to your grandfather's accident?"

          "Damn it! On the phone you said it was a sniper's bullet, you send a helicopter to collect me in the middle of the night, and when I get to the hospital everyone acts as if it's just another day. You all act as if I had been summoned from a buying trip instead of my normal life. What gives?!  I think I have a right to know."

          Stevens templed his fingers and regarded her coolly. "If there was anything more I knew I would tell you. I'm as displeased with this situation as you are. If the press weren't so bad in London I'd have insisted we stay there."

          Angel poured herself a generous quantity of whiskey in a glass and took a seat next to her grandfather's self-appointed bodyguard. "Why don't you tell me exactly what happened?" she asked, once again in firm control of her emotions.

          "It was a sunny day after a long stint of rain. The day started like any other with the three of us eating breakfast and reading the morning paper. Elliot found an auction that looked promising; your grandfather eschewed the trip in favor of riding.  He was apparently on his way back to the stables when he was shot. It was sudden, unpredicted, and went off almost entirely unnoticed. The only person around for miles was our gardener, Mr. Shaw.  Shaw was returning from Jonathan's estate with rose cuttings. He was planning a new edition to the rose garden. Shaw had his shotgun with him, he had been hoping to spot some ducks, he fired off three shots and people came running. It was a matter of moments before the entire scene was mass chaos. Shaw and Mitchell carried your grandfather back to the house and called a doctor while some of the others examined his horse." 

          Angle gasped, "He was riding Chocolate?  Is he all right? That old horse is as protective of grandfather as I am. He must have been bad off if he didn't get up and stand guard over grandfather."

          "He did get up and stand guard next to your grandfather.  That was the problem; he had to be tranquilized before Shaw could reach your grandfather. 

          "How do you know it wasn't just an accident?" 

          Stevens reached into his pocket and pulled out a bullet, "Because of this." He said softly, tossing the bullet that the doctor had pulled out of her grandfather's chest. It had come so close to striking his heart-too close. Stevens left the room.

          "Oh, god." It was a bullet not unlike what Low Light used in battle. It was a special bullet, designed to do irrevocable damage, which only assigns of a certain level used.  It was nothing short of a miracle that the bullet had not struck his heart. Angel moved to stare out into the night through a slit in the curtains. She wondered just what kind of evil was out there, watching even now, waiting for the next chance, the next time their guard was down. What did they want?  What could she do to make sure they didn't get it? She wished circumstances were different and she could call on the one man who seemed like he always had an answer. "I miss you Duke." She placed her palm on the window for half a second and then turned and walked away. 


	5. State of the World Today

Hi everyone! Thanks for the review-those wonderful people who leave them.  Thank you lyds for helping me edit and for a sketch of Angel-and to Tracy for the encouragement. I don't own the Joes, not quite sure what I'd do if I did but the point is mute in any case. 

 London Towne: Chapter 4

State of the World Today

          Patrick O' Hara was sleeping soundly in his bedroom in Atlanta, Georgia, secure in the knowledge that all his children and their families were doing well and were safe. All that is about to change. "Ring, Ring, Ring.." the insistent ringing would not go away no matter how Patrick tried to hide from it. If he ignored it the phone rang on. When the machine picked up, the caller would hang up and immediately call back. If Patrick rolled over and hide his head under his pillow, the phone still rang on. Eventually Patrick decided that the caller was not going to be satisfied until he picked up the phone. "It's 2 am on a Saturday, for crying out loud, what's the emergency?!"

          "Daddy?" a familiar voice came over the line

          "Shauna? Baby is that you?" she laughed softly, "I'm not exactly a baby anymore, daddy." 

          "What's wrong sweetie? Where are you?" Patrick began to worry; his daughter was generally straightforward and self-sufficient, as much as he'd like to think otherwise, she wouldn't call at this hour unless it was important. 

          "Do you have a pencil, daddy?" 

          "Hold on sweetie and I'll get one."

          "It doesn't matter, you don't need to write this down anyways. Just listen, that's all you have to do, listen and remember."

          "All right." Patrick waited

          "I'm going to give you a telephone number and I need you to remember it without writing it down.  Can you do that?"

          "This is important, you're in trouble, aren't' you?" 

          "Daddy, it's nothing you can help me with, just remember this number and promise only to call in extreme emergency. If Bill's daughter breaks her arm, that's not an emergency. An emergency is you having a heart attack, or someone threatens the dojo. Understand?" 

          "What kind of trouble are you in, baby?"

          She rattled off a number and made him repeat it back; "Don't give it out; not to my brothers, not to their wives, not to any of my friends, especially not to the government or the army. People will call daddy, and once they realize they can't get information that way they'll come to Atlanta and find you. If they hurt you, or threaten you, call this number. It's an answering service. I'll check it regularly. It's the only way anyone can find me, daddy, and you have to promise me you won't give it out."

          "I promise, baby, but isn't there something I can do to help?"

          "Yeah, take care of yourself daddy, be strong, be fast, and be careful. Don't take on any new students for a while, no children, especially no adults, and, take a long vacation daddy. I'll be watching you. I love you daddy, be safe."

          "Shauna, baby, are you there?" but his only daughter had disconnected and now he was left alone with his thoughts. "Well, I'm not going to get any more sleep tonight." He got up and pulled an old sweatshirt on over his pajamas, but instead of going downstairs, he simply gathered his wife's rosary, and a bible. He kneeled and began to pray. "Michaela, you may be in a better position to watch over our little girl for now. I still need her down here with me, so look after her, and if she gets any ideas, you send her back here to me, please." 

          Across the continent, another man was lying awake, thinking of Shauna. For Duke, it was nearly time to get up and meet Flint and Lady Jaye for breakfast. After that they had a meeting to attend. There was little more the team had learned since Scarlett's disappearance. Jaye would leave again today for Atlanta, hoping that this time she could locate Patrick O' Hara and get some answers.  She was confident that the man was purposely avoiding her. The rest of them would carry on as they had for all these weeks. They would monitor communications, Hawk would continue to look for General Peters, and they would all try to avoid Duke, if at all possible.  There was nothing else they could do, really. The team's security hadn't been breached in any way, except for the unknown helicopter. Breaker had done every check in the book twice just to make sure. He hadn't called Scarlett, and he was on duty that night so he knew no phone calls had come in for her, so that left someone outside the team responsible for her disappearance. If no one had turned up any information he was going to start seriously knocking heads. He had already decked Leatherneck for accusing Scarlett of turning traitor.  He couldn't say that encounter had gone well, but it had shut the idiot up.  "And now to get up and go to breakfast, and then that damn meeting." He dreaded it-the eyes that wouldn't quite meet his, other eyes that when they did, looked like they were afraid he was going to knock their lights out. That he supposed was only reasonable considering his actions the moment he heard Bill's version of Scarlett's disappearance.

          Flint and Lady Jaye were sitting at their usual table eating breakfast. They had gotten a plate for Duke. Lately he would settle for coffee but not food. Duke walked in the cafeteria and they waved him over. 

          "Jaye got you a plate."

          Duke raised an eyebrow, "Am I that bad?" seeing Jaye cringe he added, "Never mind. I am and I know it. I just haven't found a way to snap out of it yet."

          "There isn't a way buddy. We just have to find her."

          "Bill is taking me to Atlanta again, I'm leaving right after the meeting."

          "Her father isn't going to talk to you."

          "I wasn't aware that you'd met the man."

"I haven't, Jaye, I just know that he's extremely protective of his daughter. Unless you can convince him that she needs your help he'll just tell you whatever Shauna has told him to say."

          Jaye didn't know what to say. She had gone to Atlanta twice before and each time her family seemed to magically disappear just as she arrived. 

          The three friends finished their breakfast and walked down to the meeting. None of them were looking forward to it. 

          Hawk called the meeting to order "Well people, let's get started." 

          They muddled their way through daily business and finally got to the point Duke had been dreading. It was time once again to go over Scarlett's disappearance. 

          "Lady Jaye, you are leaving for Atlanta when this meeting is adjourned, correct?" 

          "Yes, sir."

          "Any new developments to report? No? Well, I have one." His voice was grim "I've tracked down every General Peters in the United States military, I've spoken directly to several of them, the one's I haven't spoken to myself, Colonel Sharp or General Flag have spoken to.  No one by the name of General Peters has requested, or transferred, Scarlett to their staff, period. No one knows of anyone who has ever shown extreme interest in her, no one knows anything about her prior to her joining the Joe force. I've tapped my old colleagues from the intelligence department. They have not heard of Scarlett either. It's highly unlikely that anyone in the United States military had anything to do with Scarlett's disappearance.  General Flag has suggested that we try Britain. He has worked with several people from the British military and has contacted them searching for this General Peters. It makes me extremely ill at ease to know that we cannot find this man. He is either involved in something so top secret that I don't have clearance for it or he simply never existed outside Scarlett's imagination."

          Duke jumped in, "Sir, you do realize that what your saying could be understood as an accusation against Scarlett?"

          "I'm well aware of it, I don't like the idea that she'd turn traitor any more than you do, but we've seen it happen. She may not be acting of her own free will.  We've looked into possible threats against her family and found none but it is entirely possible that there is another hold over her that we haven't found yet." He eyed them all individually, "I want you all to keep digging. Keep your ears open and follow any lead, however unlikely. Dismissed." 

          While the Joes were having their meeting Angel and Stevens were walking over the site where Mr. McCullough was shot. 

          They had ridden over on horseback, attempting to imitate, as much as possible the exact events. They dismounted, "This is where it happened. He was ridding along here when he was shot."

          "Did you check the ground to see if there were any other bullets?" 

          "Yes. I even thought that perhaps one had been buried in the dirt with all the people milling about, but no, I didn't find a single bullet or casing."

          "This is so frustrating! How can we protect him if we don't know what we're up against? This is a little too like a Phantom Menace for my taste. No one, not even snipers can disappear without a trace."

          "I beg to disagree with you Angel, you've done many a time. If those ridiculous Generals who run the Joe team knew half your capabilities they would laugh with glee, before they decided you were too dangerous to keep around, even on a leash." 

          Angel glared at him, "Let's not talk about them or me. Let's concentrate on finding a clue. Something, anything to tell us who would want to hurt grandfather and why."

          As Angel and Stevens walked around, circling the ground they were being watched.  Their shooter was close at hand, waiting patiently for the moment when he could continue his work. This was only the beginning. 


	6. Southern Hospitality

HI there! Okay, well my great aspirations of posting a chapter a month have fallen by the way side. But here we go with the next chapter and hopefully it won't be too long before the next one is back from the editor and ready to post. Thanks to Tracy and Lydia for editing (and Lydia for all those incredibly complicated chats about plots and what not) and to Shauna, my ever-faithful reviewer (Thank you so much for the encouragement!). Please leave a review at the end of this story to let me know what you think of the story.   A note: after asking several people (thank you again for your help) I have decided to go with the order of Scarlett's brothers being this: Brian is the oldest, Frank is in the middle (although he is not in this chapter), and Sean is the youngest brother. 

London Towne: Chapter 5

Southern Hospitality

The air was warm as Allie finally stepped out of the airport in Atlanta. She found her rental car and made her way to the O' Hara's residence. No one was home. "Big surprise, Allie, real big." 

          "Can I help you dear?" 

          Allie looked for the source of the voice.  A neighbor lady knelling in her garden motioned Allie over. 

          "Hi!" Allie held out her hand, "I'm looking for my friend Shauna O' Hara. She told me this was her father's house, but it doesn't appear that anyone's at home." 

          The neighbor laughed, "Oh, no, dear. It's Sunday. The whole clan is at Brian's house, ah, that would be her oldest brother. They'll wind up there after mass lets out. Brian's wife is going to have another baby so the family meets over at their house lately rather than here. I doubt Shauna will be with them though, she's not around much lately."

          "Oh, that's too bad. I'm only in Atlanta for the weekend. I would have come by sooner, but I couldn't find the phone number. Is there anyway you could tell me how to find their church?" 

          "Dearie, you'd never find it. But, it just so happens that Patrick invited me to come by and have lunch with them. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you tagged along, being a friend of Shauna's and all."

          "Are you sure it would be all right? I don't want to impose and I've never met her family."

          "You must have known her when she was at Tech. I always wondered why she stayed in the military instead of coming back to finish her degree. Anyways, come in dear and I'll get you a glass of lemonade. I wouldn't want you to think poorly of Southern hospitality. Shauna of course never stood on formality, but she did throw some marvelous parties for her father." 

          Allie walked in her new friend and sat down in the kitchen. 

          "You have a lovely home."  

          "Why, thank you dear, it's so nice to hear that. Patrick helps out a bit by cleaning the gutters and mowing the lawn. My Henry passed on a few years ago and Patrick has been so nice. He tells me it's just to repay me for helping out with the children after Michaela died, but you'll know all about that won't you?" 

          "Actually no, I don't. Shauna never talked about her mother much. It made her sad."

          "Well, she died when the Shauna was just a girl, and Shauna took it harder than the rest of them. Her father did his best of course, but I don't think anyone could ever fill the whole in her heart Michaela left when she went on. But, there I go, rambling on and on, give me just a moment and I'll change my clothes and we'll be off.  I'm Mrs. Campbell by the way."

          "Allie.  It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Campbell." 

          Mrs. Campbell kept up the conversation practically by herself the entire way to Brian O' Hara's home. It turned out that all Allie had to do was supply a minimal of interest and a few short stories about her adventures, like the time she and Shauna had kidnapped the guys and rented a house boat for a long weekend. It never occurred to Mrs. Campbell that Allie wasn't exactly who she said she was. Of course it helped that Allie had brought pictures along. Mrs. Campbell just loved them, and after Allie had offered to let her keep an especially nice one of Shauna, her status had gone from friend to adopted family member instantly. Allie just hoped that her status wouldn't drop just as fast when Patrick got a good look at her. 

          "Here we are dear. Just as I suspected, you can always pick out the O'Hara residence by the noise level and the number of red haired Irishmen wandering about. It's not just Patrick and the boys, you know, it's them and all their families, and all their close friends. You should see it when Shauna and her friends are here; equal number of single men to single women. You'd think you were in high school again with all the hormones." She laughed 

          A man that looked remarkably like Shauna waved from the front porch and wandered down to the car. Mrs. Campbell eyed the open beer bottle in his hand and clucked her tongue. "Now, Sean, don't you think it's a bit early to start drinking?"

          "Hell no, Mrs. Campbell, Dad's already downed several shots of whiskey. I'm pacing myself!" 

          "Sean, this is a friend of your sister's, Allie." 

          "Hiya Allie, sis isn't here today, but follow me and Mrs. Campbell and I'll introduce you around."

          "Thanks, I'd appreciate it. I hate that I missed her, but maybe you can put me in touch with her."

          Sean laughed, "I'd love to, except no one can keep track of my wanderlust sister for more than a few weeks. Ever since she joined the army, she's never home more than a few days. Hey, Dad! Look who I found outside!"

          At last Allie was about to come face to face with the man who held all the answers. "Mrs. Campbell! It's delightful to see you! I'm glad you changed your mind! Come in and I'll find you a seat. See how much this one's grown? It's only been a week, but I swear the tot has grown a foot!" Patrick's laugher and obvious pride in his new grandbaby was infectious as the whole clan joined in. And what a clan! All these people couldn't possibly be related to Shauna. 

          "I brought a friend with me Patrick, one of Shauna's friend's actually. You really should teach that daughter of yours how to dial a phone, why this poor girl only had your address."

          Patrick's laughed died as he turned and faced Allie. Patrick O' Hara may have never served in combat, but you could have fooled just about anyone then. His back went absolutely rigid and his eyes narrowed to slits. Gone were his laugher and welcoming smile. 

          "What are you doing here?!" he demanded 

          "I came looking for my friend." Allie knew she would have to be careful what she said to this man. He obviously recognized her from photographs but she hadn't expected his hostile nature. 

          Patrick turned and handed his grandbaby to Mrs. Campbell and grabbed Allie by her arm. 

          "Hey dad, what's up?" Sean asked, this rudeness being uncharacteristic of his father. 

          "Go find your brother, Sean."

          Patrick marched Allie out to the front porch before laying into her.

          "How dare you, come here and threaten my family?!" he asked her

          She was reminded of being a small child caught doing something wrong, it would have better if Patrick had let loose that Irish temper of his and yelled. This low menacing voice was not at all comforting. 

          "Mr. O'Hara, I came here looking for your daughter, she's a friend of mine and I need to find her."

          "Unlikely. She told me you people would come, but I had hoped we had a little more time."

          "Please, Mr. O' Hara, if she's in trouble I can help. She has friends who are worried about her! It's not like her to just disappear like this!"

          "I really don't care what you say, Ms., but I want you gone. I won't stand here and let you threaten my family!"

          "I didn't come here to threaten anyone! I just came to ask you if she's all right. You can tell me that much can't you? She left behind people she loved, whatever the reason she left I know it was important, she wouldn't just abandon us to think the worst! But there are people who do, and if you care about her career at all you have to tell me how to find her."

          A man appeared wearing an apron and wielding a spatula. Allie assumed this must be Brian "What's wrong dad? Who's this? Mrs. Campbell said she was a friend of Shauna's?" 

          "Yeah, dad, what's up? Is something wrong with sis? Has something happened that you haven't told us?" 

          "I'm a friend of your sister's. My name is Allie, Allison Hart-Burnett. If you look in her room you'll find pictures of us together. She disappeared and I'm trying to find her. She could be in danger, we don't know, we're all worried."

          She seemed to be getting through to Sean. Unfortunately, he didn't look like he had all that much influence with his older brother and father. 

          "Leave, now. If something's wrong with my little sister I'm sure dad has his reasons for keeping it to himself. I won't have you scaring my family."

          "OH, come on Brian, what would the harm be in just talking to her for a few minutes?" 

          "Sean." His father called sharply. "Come back inside now, Ms. Burnett knows she not welcome here." The three men went back inside and slammed the door shut. She heard someone throw the lock. Allie sat down on the front steps for a minute to collect her thoughts. That had not gone well. She looked up as she heard footsteps approaching. 

          "Hey, is what you said true, about you being friends with sis?" 

          "Yeah, Sean. She's my best friend and I'm worried about her. I just want to know if she's okay." 

          He offered her a hand up, "Come on, I'll drive you back to wherever you left your car." 

          "Thanks, I left it at your father's place."

          "You have to understand that Dad is just worried. He's real protective of us, but he's a fanatic about Shauna. She reminds him of mom, sometimes, a little too much. Mom was a bit of an adventurer herself."

          "Shauna didn't talk about her much, she didn't talk about any of you much."

          "She doesn't. Family is separate from everything else. If she's in town she comes to mass and spends Sunday afternoon with the family. The rest of the time she does whatever. Usually, she helps out with a class or two. Mrs. Campbell had time to tell me that you were a friend from Tech." 

          Allie tried to decide if this was something she should agree to or tell him the truth. She decided with Sean, lying wasn't going to get her anywhere.

          "Mrs. Campbell assumed I went to Tech with your sister and that's where I met her. I didn't even know your sister went to college at all."

          "I knew you didn't know her from Tech."

          Allie reassessed him, deciding there was more to his easy going nature than was apparent. "How did you know?"

          "Easy. She wasn't in there long enough to make a friend I didn't get around to meeting. I went with Jackson every time he went to see her. I learned more about women following Jackson around my sister's dorm than I did when I was at Tech. She had a few friends, but the really close ones followed her home on the weekends. You weren't one of them. Besides, you don't look like a desk jockey and you sure don't look like a pilot.  You look surprised; I know she the whole reason she's staying in the Army is so she could fly those jets. There's nothing she loves more than flying."

          "I thought she learned to fly in the Army."

          Sean laughed, "My sister saved every cent she earned from the time she was in high school to the time she moved into the dorms. As soon as she had control over her own finances she bought a plane, got Jackson and Rodger to teach her how to fly the thing, and she bought a space at a local airstrip."

          "It sounds like this Jackson was important?" 

          Charlie started laughing hysterically, "Lady, the next time you see my sister, you ask her about Mr. Jackson Daniels and all he did for her. It's an insight into my sister that I just can't tell you about. He was her one and only great love, and man, what a love it was. She got into more trouble just by being friends with Jackson than she ever got into the rest of her life!"   
          "You sure you don't want to tell me about it? The guy certainly has an interesting nick name."

          "That's not his nick name, it's his parent's idea of a joke! You sure you don't want to tell me what kind of trouble my sister's in?"

          "If I knew, I'd tell you Sean.  There's my car.  Thanks for the lift."

          "Hey wait a minute! Come inside for a minute." He jumped out of the car and strode up the walk to unlock the door. "Come on in." Allie followed him in, "Up the stairs, last door on the right." 

          Allie opened the door and walked in to what must have been Shauna's room. Martial Arts posters warred with movie posters, posters of rock stars and Irish landscapes. 

          "I know, she's got eclectic taste. Look on the dresser."

          Allie directed her attention to dresser opposite the window. Here, stuck in the sides of the mirror were pictures of her with the Joe team. The fishing trip she had told Mrs. Campbell about. Ticket stubs, from one of Allie's performances, a picture of the girls sitting on Flint's car, a picture of a group of Joes out on the town. Allie recognized the scene from a bar they visited after a mission was completed. Even then Duke had his arm wrapped around Shauna's shoulders, a big goofy grin on his face matched the megawatt smile on Shauna's face.  Allie took the picture out of its place on the mirror and smiled. She ran her finger gently over the photo, a sad smile on her face. "Wherever you are sweetie, I hope you know what you're doing." 

          Allie thanked Sean and promised to be in touch as she drove back to the airport. Sean had promised to let her know if he got any information out of his father and in return she promised to keep him updated on any information she found. 


	7. Reunions

                    Note to readers: Hartsfield International Airport is the big airport of the South-it's in Atlanta-there's an old joke down here that says "If the devil wanted to go to hell he'd have to change planes at Hartsfield." To Lydia and Tracy who not only edit for me but also keep me sane (or relatively). Thank you to Mickey for all the help with the fight scene and for the idea to the chapel scene-and to Kris-who got my lazy but in gear and beta read the chapel scene. J Enjoy and let me know what you think! 

Chapter 6: Reunions

It was raining. It was always raining in this accursed country. The alarm kept blaring in her ear. There was a knock on the door and Martha walked in with a breakfast tray. "Good morning, Ms. McCullough. Sleep well? Would you like a bath after breakfast? You've just got time for one if you eat quickly."

          Angel pulled the covers back over her head. Martha in turn opened all the curtains in the room, including those surrounding the huge bed Angel was currently occupying. "Martha, it's too early! I was out late last night, I need my beauty rest!"

          "Now, now, I know that new neighbor of yours, Jonathan, is quite a catch, but you knew today was going to be busy before you agreed to go out for a drink with him."

          She mumbled a response, "I didn't go out with just him, I went out with Ronnie as well. It's not my fault she's decided he's going to become my next lover. It apparently doesn't matter to Ronnie if I'm not interested in becoming anyone's lover at the moment."

          "Ms. Davenport is just looking out for your well being. She doesn't want you to be lonely."

          "Martha, I have an entire pack of hunting dogs that race in here at the slightest hint of thunder, my grandfather and Elliot to take care of, and besides, she just gave me a horse so we could go riding. Why does she think I'm lonely?" 

          "Well, you know Ronnie, she thinks if there isn't a man chasing after you then life is boring and lonely."

          "Hmph!" 

          "She'll be here in about an hour, and I'm sure her sunny disposition will be in place, you could take a clue from her on your attitude, you know."

          "Martha?"

          "Yes, dear?" 

          "Go away!" 

          "Fine, I'll just finish packing your bags and get Marston to take them downstairs."

          "Martha, I am perfectly capable of packing my own bags!"

          "Well, I just thought I'd help."

          Angel got out of bed and snatched her suitcase out of Martha's hands. "You just want to know how much whiskey and cigarettes I've packed." 

          "Well, they're not good for you."

          "I know. I don't care at the moment."

          "The more your grandfather sees you smoking them, the more he's going to want to start smoking again. Those nasty cigars are bad enough, but at least he only smokes those in one room of the house. He takes those awful cigarettes with him everywhere! I don't even think he should be going to this meeting or what have you. He's only been out of the hospital a little more than a month. He just has no business traveling."

          "I know, Martha, but there's nothing I can do short of locking him in his room. I think it's safer for him in Atlanta anyways. People don't walk around toting high-powered hunting riffles in Atlanta, at least not the kind of people he'll be around." 

          "Are you convinced that he was shot by a hunter? He may be a bit portly, dear, but he doesn't look like a deer." 

          Angle turned sharply to look at her maid, "Do you have another suggestion Martha?" 

          Martha turned her head, "Well, I don't mean to dabble in idle gossip…"

          "Martha, what have you heard?" 

          "Well, your grandfather has been getting offers for his property."

          This was certainly a surprise, she wondered if Stevens knew about this, "What kind of offers, from whom?"

          "Jonathan Edwards mostly. Jonathan wants to expand his land holdings. He has some project or another he's planning, all those strange men wandering about. They can't all be servants you know. I don't really like him, Lizzy. I don't trust him. He's only hanging about Ronnie as much as he is because he thinks he can buy her out if he can convince her he has her best interests at heart. So far Ronnie hasn't paid much mind to all this land talk, but mark my words, that man is up to something."

          "Martha, if you hear anything more about it, you'll let me know, won't you?" 

          "Of course, dear, of course," Martha grabbed the breakfast tray and made her way out the room hoping she hadn't just opened mouth and stuck her foot in it. Ms. Lizzy didn't seem completely attached to Jonathan yet, but she was certainly attached to Ms. Veronica, and wherever Veronica went, Jonathan was not far behind.  

          Angel looked through her bags, checking that she had all the necessary equipment, debugging and bugging devices, her laptop, cash, extra passport, in a different name of course, a fancy knife that hide inside a very large but beautiful diamond and emerald necklace, and of course her guns. Those were best to check when she was well and truly alone. This new information was something to discuss with Stevens, when she got the chance to. Grandfather had absolutely insisted that he and Elliot, and as such, Stevens and herself as well, attend a party being held in Atlanta. Things were quiet here, almost as if their watcher had taken a vacation. Angel knew better, after years of hanging around Snake Eyes she had learned that even if every test you could make came out clear, there was no going against your instincts, and hers screamed at her every time she passed a window.  She didn't like being watched and this was especially bad because it didn't feel like an enemy exactly, it felt like a stalker, someone who watched her every move, hunting her, waiting for her to misstep. She didn't like it at all. She and Stevens were on twelve-hour shifts; for twelve hours she would monitor security, ride the edge of the property, with her radio on, and generally look for anything amiss.  After her twelve hours were up she and Stevens sat in the library and shifted through the facts again; thus far it had been a useless effort. They had found nothing new or interesting, but perhaps now, with Martha looking out and reporting gossip, someone or something would add a new dimension to their stagnant investigation. Jonathan Edwards seemed nice enough. He was a very British man, and in her years abroad, Angel had come to the conclusion that there were three types of British men. Those who were too young to notice women, those too old to care, and the ones in between who were virile and thought for the most part women were put on this Earth by God for the sole purpose of amusing men. She strongly felt that the longer she knew Jonathan; she would find that he fell into the middle category, seeing women as entertainment.  Stevens was an exception to that rule. He reminded her a lot of Snake Eyes, he spoke little but when he did you'd better listen up because it was important, and the man's control was so utterly complete as to be un-human like. Snake Eyes had spent years perfecting his control, she wondered if Stevens had mastered his control during the war. She wasn't sure what role he played in the war, most likely intelligence, although he did fly medic helicopters. It must have been during one of those non-wars where the government strictly denies any involvement but is in reality in it up to their ears. Elliot saved Stevens' life and Stevens saved Elliot's life. Sometime after all that and before she had gotten involved they had come to the conclusion that where one would go the other would follow. Elliot seemed to live a bachelor's paradise, a new girl every week, money to spare, good friends to share his time and money. Stevens was always on the fringe of this no matter how hard grandfather and Elliot tried to bring him in, he seemed happier to be away from all the fakes those two seemed to surround themselves with at social occasions. She could always count on Stevens to rescue her from an overly affectionate gentleman or a boring tea party. She made sure to return the favor. 

          "Lizzy, darling, where are you?" Apparently Angel's solitude had come to an end. Ronnie had arrived. Angel finished checking her weapons and closed that suitcase just as Ronnie opened the door and floated in. There was just no other way to describe it. 

          "Why darling, you haven't even finished packing yet!"

          "Ronnie, I'm not dressed yet, if I'm not dressed then how could I have finished packing?"

          "Tsk, Tsk, you shouldn't be so disagreeable you know. You always enjoy Atlanta. You're more at home in Atlanta than you are in England, playing lady of the manor for your grandfather."

          "Ronnie, shut up."

          "Here, I'll help you." Ronnie pulled open the drawers of the armoire and started pulling things out in a crazed storm of dresses and suits. 

          "What are these? Blue Jeans? I didn't even know you owned a pair, and what a funny jacket! It's leather but it has a most curious design on the back. Is this one of those funny pilot jackets your friends at the airfield gave you?"

          "You mean, Cox? Um, yes. It's a special jacket you wear if you're going to fly one of those old planes.  Incidentally the name of the plane is a Spitfire; it was one of the premier planes in the war." 

          "Lizzy, I worry about you flying those things, they're antiques. Why can't you fly your little plane, the one you only bought a few years ago?"

          Angel came back from the bathroom where she had been gathering her make-up and things. "Because Ronnie, flying vintage world war two planes is fun and it gives me the opportunity to socialize with real people, other than you of course." 

          "I know how you feel about most of the people I invite to my parties, but you have to admit, they are amusing darling and I need their money to finance competition expenses for myself and take care of the girls homes I started." 

          "I'm sorry, Ronnie, I didn't mean to insult you.  You know you're one of my best friends."

          Ronnie smirked, "I know, I just like to hear every so often." Ronnie picked up a pants suit from the pile on the bed. "Here, put this on to travel in. I know how you abhor traveling in skirts. I'll call Martha to help pack." Ronnie walked out the door, down the hall, and leaned over the balcony railing to holler into the hall below. "Martha love, could you come up here a moment? I need your help stuffing Lizzy into her clothes."

          "Veronica!" Martha gasped, "That is not something to say in mixed company!"

           "Well, come up here and it won't be an issue any longer." 

          Martha came, between the three of them they got Lizzy dressed, packed, and in the car.  Lizzy took the travel time to find out as much about Jonathan as she could. He wasn't as interested in talking about himself as he was about talking around himself. He discussed his family, his childhood, his days at Oxford, his passion for racehorses, and his love of British history.  He did not however discuss himself. It took Lizzy all the way to Hartsfield in Atlanta for her to discover that Jonathan dabbled in investments and horses, other than that he lived off the wealth he inherited. Lizzy was infinitely glad to be rid of the man. He and Veronica had decided that they would stay at the hotel the party was being held at since they had invited themselves along at the last minute. Grandfather, Elliot, Stevens, and Lizzy were to stay at grandfather's Atlanta residence. It was actually a little out of Atlanta since the city proper did not have enough connected green space to support one horse let alone the several that resided in Mr. McCullough's stables. Angel made sure that Ronnie was comfortable at the hotel with Jonathan. Ronnie told her that she was fine. They were all to stay at the hotel tomorrow evening anyways, seeing as how the party wouldn't be over until late. Ronnie planned on finding some rich, interesting man to buy her dinner, namely Jonathan, and then she was going to collapse into her bed, alone she assured her friend, and sleep until noon the next morning, get up and make a salon appointment, and spend the rest of the day getting ready for the party. Angel was actually glad that Ronnie wasn't coming to stay at the manor. This way she knew Jonathan was occupied and she could slip out and visit her father. 

          Patrick O'Hara had just arrived home late, after a day of instructing martial arts at his dojo. It had been a particularly difficult day. Sean had been asking questions about his sister, yet again.  Brian's toddler had an ear infection and had to stay at the dojo while Brian and his wife were at the office.  All he wanted to do was sit in his favorite chair in the den and have a nice glass of whiskey to help him unwind. He hung up his jacket and dumped his keys on the table in the kitchen. He noticed Mrs. Campbell had come by and left him dinner. He supposed it was her way of apologizing for bringing that woman to Brian's house. He fixed himself a plate and walked to the den for a glass of whiskey and some mindless television. He got as far as the door before he dropped his plate on the carpet. "Shauna!" 

          "Surprise, daddy.  You know you never used to let us eat in here. If it wasn't self washable we ate in the kitchen."

          She got up and gave her stunned father a hug. He hugged her back, hard and fierce as if he would never let her go. She hugged him back the same way. "I've been so worried, lass. I didn't know what to think.  You called out of the blue and then your army friends started calling, it seems the whole world is looking for you." 

          She pulled back, "What did you tell them, daddy?"

          "I told them that as far as I knew you were fine but I didn't know where you were or how to get in touch with you.  Your friend Allison came by the house and befriended Mrs. Campbell, imagine my surprise when she brought your friend by Brian's one Sunday afternoon. It was all I could do not to shake the woman and demand she tell me what had happened to you. I didn't think it would be much good considering that she didn't seem to know what had happened to you either."

          "It'll be okay daddy. I don't know how long I'll have to be gone, but I'll slip away as often as I can." 

          Shauna ate dinner with her father and then reluctantly left to return to McCullough's manor. She was moody the next day. Ronnie picked up on it when she called to ask if Lizzy was going to come to the salon. Her horse, Midnight, picked up on it when she went to visit him. Even the housekeeper, whom she didn't know very well, picked up on it. Elliot asked if she felt up to accompanying them to the part that evening. Angel of course wasn't going to leave Stevens to handle both grandfather and Elliot himself. She got her emotions back under control and managed to find a smile that she hoped at least half matched her dazzling appearance. The dress she had chosen was similar to the one she had worn in France with Duke. It was white, with a fitted bodice, spaghetti straps, and a slightly flared skirt. Topping the dress off was a beautiful diamond and emerald necklace that matched the barrettes in her hair as well as the green on the sheer wrap patterned after the McCullough tartan. Elliot and grandfather had been most pleased by her appearance and Ronnie even granted her a whistle when they arrived at the party. Elliot of course was resplendent in his dress uniform and grandfather escorted her in wearing his dress kilt. The evening was actually going fine until some uninvited guests dropped in. 

          Ronnie had a new man fawning over her, Jonathan was occupied with some men that fairly screamed bankers, grandfather and Elliot were arguing Scottish history with an Englishman, and Angel finally had a moment of peace, or so she thought.  Masked men chose that moment to crash the party, throwing smoke bombs and disabling the security guards.  They had machine guns and seemed intent on locating something, or someone.

 "Oh, shit. I am so not in the mood for this!" Angel complained as she noticed the men were systematically searching the crowd. "Just great." Stevens made his way though the confusion to her side. "I believe our stalker has decided to make an appearance." 

Angel and Stevens circled back to back, knocking out and disarming a few of these masked warriors. "Do you see grandfather?" she asked, her voice full of worry

"Yes. He and Elliot are at the other end of the room, they're both armed." 

"With what?! Antique Scottish dueling pistols?"

"They seem to still be effective. Another masked intruder just went down, bullet through his heart. Shit!"

          "What now?" they had finished off the intruders in their area, unfortunately Angel turned around to find that most of the intruders were converging on grandfather and Elliot. "Oh, that. Here, this will be more effective." Angel hands Stevens a berretta she picked off a fallen masked man and armed herself with another berretta and an M-16.  The intruder's excess of weapons had done him little good but they would go a long way towards helping Angel and Stevens even the fight.  

Angel reached grandfather just in time to fend off a would-be kidnapper. Not wanting to risk a stray bullet hitting the elderly man, she hit the enemy full force in the back of the head with the butt of the M-16. The man slumped to the floor, unmoving. 

Stevens disabled another two making their way towards grandfather and Elliot. This took care of seven of the original ten. Hotel security arrived just in time to see the last three making their escape. Four hours later, the police had come and taken statements, everyone who required medical treatment was taken to the hospital, Stevens and Angel had both done a search of the ballroom where the party had taken place, and Angel was finally able to leave everything in Steven's capable hands and seek her bed. 

          She walked out into the lobby and made her way to the stairs. She heard footsteps come up behind her and she paused but did not turn around.  The footsteps also paused. "Listen, it's been a long night, I've already spoken with the police and two reporters for a local television channel. If you want another angle, go find Jonathan. He doesn't' t seem to mind talking to the press."

          "I'm not a reporter, but I would like to talk to you." She recognized that voice. 

          She slowly turns around, "Barbeque?! What are you doing here?"

          He looked slightly sheepish, "Firefighters convention." 

"Ah." She replied 

He studied her for a long moment and decided he didn't like what he saw. The lady was in serious need of some good rest. 

She spots a batch of real reporters scurrying down the hall in her direction. She links her arm through his, "Buy me a drink?" she asks as she pulls him in the direction of the hotel lounge. He looks over his shoulder and sees the reporters. They hadn't spotted her yet. 

They find a bench in the back of the bar and order drinks. Angel takes a seat so she can watch who comes in and out of the bar. "I don't suppose you would have a cigarette?" 

He looks at her funny, "I don't smoke." 

"No, I don't suppose you do. I don't usually, only when I'm stressed. Don't tell Duke. He'd never let me live it down."

"All right, fair enough." 

"I can tell your just dying to know what I'm doing here."

"The thought had crossed my mind." 

She leaned back against the bench and closed her eyes.  "How are they? Are they very angry?" she asked like she almost didn't want to know but had to ask.

"We were at first. But most of us have gotten over it. It would help if we knew why you left. Transfer orders, even emergency ones, take awhile to get together. Yours were there within a few hours. Why did you leave?" 

"I had to. Grandfather was in the hospital. He had been shot off his horse by a sniper. They didn't know if he would make it. He did, but it was slow going for a while. They needed me. It would be expected of me to come home in an event like that. Normally I would be abroad."

"Doing what?"

"People think I'm buying horses. I do, but that's just so I don't blow my cover. I collect intelligence information, or I used to anyways. I haven't been doing that as much lately. I've been sticking closer to home while Stevens searches. He's the agent in place at the moment anyways. I'm just icing on the cake, so to speak. Toby passes European reports, Rocker passes reports from the Pacific, and Tommy passes American reports. I handled Europe and Russia. On occasion I collected the other reports. I travel on family business, looking at horses, collecting antiques. The military doesn't even know the extent of the operation. Elliot is in charge. He still has important connections and grandfather of course has connections in the old guard. They helped each other. They don't really do that sort of thing on a regular basis anymore, but perhaps not everyone knows that. Stevens went to talk to some of them. They are as baffled as we are, and that's not good."

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because you want to know, because it's all old news now. It doesn't matter if I tell you. Because it gives you a nice story to tell everyone back at base. Grandfather took care of me, Barbeque; he took me in when there was no one else, when I needed someone.  I owe him more than I can ever repay. I couldn't just leave him at the mercy of the spooks that are still out there. I don't know what they want; only that grandfather is apparently in the way. Stevens thinks they want to start the network up again and grandfather refused. It's possible you know, but then again anything is possible."

Ronnie walked up to the manor house. She felt the need to knock on the door to announce her arrival. Strange, that need, she'd never knocked before. She'd just waltzed in confident in the knowledge that her dear friend Lizzy would be around somewhere and would at least let Ronnie talk out her latest dilemma if not take an active part in solving it. Not now though. Now she felt the need to knock because she wasn't going to see her dear friend Lizzy McCullough. She was going to see a stranger. She'd always known Lizzy was more than she seemed to be. Ronnie just hadn't, until the party, known just how much more she was than a usually sweet tempered, sometimes erratic, always stubborn, unassuming American orphan who doted on her grandfather.  Now Ronnie wasn't quite sure what to think. That was why she was here. Stevens answered the door. 

          "Ms. Davenport." He looked weary, perhaps Lizzy's grandfather wasn't as well as she'd been told. Lizzy would tell her when she explained what the hell had happened at the party; why masked men had interrupted a party where the majority of the guests were breeders or collectors and had no ties to the underside of anything had tried to kill Lizzy and her grandfather. 

          "Where is she Stevens?  I need to talk with her." Ronnie's voice sounded a little shaky. 

          "She's in the chapel." 

          "The chapel?" Ronnie couldn't remember her friend ever setting foot in the old place. "Is she… I mean… Is it all right if I go and speak with her?" 

          "Yes. She probably needs someone right now; and I can't help her with what she's struggling with. It's more along your lines of expertise." 

          "Mine? What do I know besides horses and men? Oh? Well then; perhaps she's not as far gone as I had feared." Ronnie took off walking towards the chapel at the back of the manor house. She decided to walk the distance rather than ride it, leaving her horse grazing in the front lawn, hoping that she could compose her thoughts; something she'd never done before when talking to Lizzy. "But I have to keep reminding myself that this isn't Lizzy. It's some new person who looks like Lizzy because Lizzy is just the American born granddaughter of one of the finest horse farms in the country and Lizzy would never be able to hold off an attack like that.  That's what they have Stevens for." 

          Ronnie took in the chapel. It was a smallish stone structure, small for a church anyways, with gothic arches and ivy covering the stones. Ronnie thought that the ivy was probably what was keeping the place together. "Well, there's nothing to do but get on with it." Ronnie mustered her courage and walked through the open door of the chapel. The inside wasn't all that much better. The alter was still there but the roof over the alter was missing; casting sunshine, or more often, as today, mist and fog, into the chapel. All in all it was as eery a place as Ronnie could ever remember being in. Lizzy was kneeling at one of the pews. Knees on the floor, hands grasping a rosary, folded over the back of the pew in front, eyes downcast. Lizzy fit right in with the atmosphere. And then she spoke. He voice was gravely with recently shed tears and spoke of tears yet to fall. "I hadn't expected to see again. At least not this soon." 

          Ronnie walked down the aisle and paused before sitting down on the bench her friend was knelling at. "Aren't I supposed to kneel or cross myself or something?" 

          Lizzy laughed, it was a sad little laugh, "Haven't been in a church in a while, have you?"

"No. but I may start going again. Is it helping? And do I need to cross?"

"No. Catholics do. But you're not Catholic so it's okay. I came to think. It's quiet. I came to get my bearings, and, yes. It helps. What are you doing here?" Lizzy turned and looked at Ronnie's solemn face as her friend sat down. 

          "I came to talk to you. To get some answers. To find out why my best friend is suddenly a stranger." 

          Lizzy looked forward awhile, pondering Ronnie's answer. "What do you want to know?" 

          "Well, why don't we start with a little introduction? Hello, I'm Veronica Davenport, who the bloody hell are you? Because you're not Lizzy. Not anymore." 

          There was that laugh again, "Which name do you want? I've got so many." 

          "Start with the name you were born with and we'll go from there." 

          "Shauna O'Hara." 

          "You're Irish then?"

          "Irish-American. My parents immigrated before I was born. They were tired of watching their friend be murdered by terrorist bombs." 

          "All right. If you're not really Scottish then I don't suppose you're really related to your grandfather, are you?" 

          Lizzy's voice got soft and quiet. This wasn't going to be an easy story to tell. "No. Not really." 

          "What is your relation to the old man, then?" 

          "For all intents and purposes, I am his granddaughter. I love him just as much as I would love my real grandfather if I had ever been given the opportunity to meet him. He…saved me, more than once. Let's just say I was a stray and he has an affinity for taking in and caring for strays." 

          "What did he save you from?" 

          "Myself." 

          "What do you mean?" 

          "I was hurting, angry, scared, hurt, alone. He found me and helped me find myself again. I know it sounds like some new age psychobabble, but I was in a dark place at the time and he helped me reclaim my soul from the darkness that was threatening to consume me." 

          Ronnie laughed this time, "Now that sounds like new age psychobabble. But you're not a babbler Lizzy, so I believe you. Can I still call you Lizzy, or do I need to call you Shauna?" 

          "No. Call me Lizzy. Only a one person other than my father and brothers calls me Shauna and he's not here." 

          "So you're not an orphan?" 

          "No. My father is still alive. Calling me by my real name might change that though."

          "I'll be careful. If you're not an orphan then how did you come to be here? And what do these other people call you?" 

          "Angel." 

          "I've heard Stevens call you that before. Usually it was a pre-cursor for something disastrous." 

          "Are you sure you want to know? It's not a pretty story." 

          "Will it help me to understand why you've been keeping secrets from me? You're still my friend Lizzy, regardless of whatever else you've always been a good friend to me."

          Lizzy turned to Ronnie, "Thank you."

          "For what?" 

          "For knowing who I am, that I'm your friend even though you've just found out that the majority of what you know about my past was a collection of carefully constructed lies." 

          "Tell me, Lizzy. I'll try to understand." 

          "Okay." 

          "I'm a spy.  Angel and Lizzy McCullough are code names.  Lizzy McCullough was created for me when I came to work for grandfather and Elliot. I gathered information on terrorist activities. Elliot analyzed the information and advised governments on what to do. Grandfather is really just who he seems to be. A quiet, unassuming old gent, who wants to help."

          "Angel is my field name. It's what people call me when I'm out in the world collecting information. What I do makes me rather unpopular with a good many violent people. The information I collect shuts their little operations down. Their people are killed or put in jail. They deserve to be but then criminals aren't usually happy when they get put in jail. I've earned my fair share of enemies along the way."

          "How did you get the name Angel? I'd hardly think a criminal would give it to you?" 

          "A soldier and an old lady gave me the name. They meant it in two very different ways and it stuck. I started out in Ireland and Scotland working to shut down extremist cells in the IRA or the Scottish nationalists. The operation ended badly and I lost several good friends. I was sent to Russia because I knew too much for them to let me stay where I was but it would be dangerous for them to kill me. I was on patrol one night in the Black Forest. I heard noises; a child screaming in fear. I nearly turned away and went back the way I came but I guess my soul wasn't completely lost because I didn't turn back I turned toward the noise. What I saw chilled me to what little soul I had left. A group of five soldiers were standing around an old lady and her granddaughter. Two soldiers were holding the old lady and the other three were hurting her granddaughter. Two of the soldiers held the girl while the fifth solider beat her with his gun and tore her clothes off. When I got close enough to see without having to look through my binoculars they had wrestled the little girl to the ground. She was putting up a good fight but there were three of them to hold her down. I knew what would happen if I didn't intervene. The girl was fourteen, fifteen maybe, old enough to be of interest to the soldiers. When the one soldier went for his pants something in me snapped. I heard gunfire and it took me a moment to realize that I was standing before the soldiers, or the two I hadn't already killed, with an empty clip. Instead of reloading I took out my knife and I killed the soldier that was going to rape the little girl. He didn't die right away. I didn't want him to. The two soldiers who where holding the grandmother looked on blankly before they realized that their comrades were dead. One of the soldiers called me an Angel of darkness, an Angel of vengeance. The grandmother called me an Angel of mercy. Like I said the name stuck." 

          Lizzy turned to look at her friend, but Ronnie didn't look shocked, "And what about the one who calls you Shauna?" 

          "After Russia I was sent to Grandfather and Elliot, after that I was sent to an American strike force. They gave me a new code name and a new life. I had friends they became family. We laughed tighter, cried together, and fought together. They all had secrets, pasts they had overcome; they all accepted me and loved me. And I abandoned them. I abandoned him." 

          "Him. That's what's gotten you so miserable since you came back; none of this ridiculous spy stuff. That's what Stevens meant when I asked if I could come talk to you! You've bloody gone and fallen in love! And with an American! A soldier! I thought the block would turn out to be RAF or something like that. But you told me, didn't you at the hospital when your grandfather had been shot, that you had a man and he was an American." 

          Ronnie looked over at her friend to confirm her conclusions, she saw silent tears streaming down her friends face, "Oh, damn! I'm sorry love, I didn't mean to upset you!" That apparently made it worse for those tears lost their silence and Lizzy crumpled. Ronnie drew Lizzy into her arms and held her for a while. 

          "I'm sorry." Lizzy whipped tears from her eyes, "I don't ever loose control like that." 

          Ronnie eyed her friend, "Yeah, well maybe you should. Can you talk about it?"

          "It's not fair Ronnie. I waited all my life to find someone like him and now I've lost him. Just because of some stupid terrorists or stalker or some stupid idiot had to go and decide grandfather made a nice target!" 

          "What makes you think you've lost him? Tell me about him, it'll help, and you know I'm dying of curiosity."

Lizzy smiled and laughed, the seriousness of the situation for a moment put away, and she could just sit and talk to her girlfriend about that the man who had brought love back into her hear. " Where to start? He's wonderful... he's a good friend, always has been. He takes care of me. Let's me do just about whatever but he'll put me in my place when he needs to. He's intelligent, not like these pretty party boys that keep hanging around. He's a bit rough around the edges. He can be sneaky at times but then again he makes his living creating and implementing successful strategies. He's tall and big. You'd appreciate that. His shoulders are massive, there's nothing more peaceful than being wrapped up in his arms. His hands are big and quick as lightning but they can turn gentle in a second. And his eyes... they can melt me to my bones with just a look." 

          "So, he's handsome as sin?"

          "Yes." 

          "And is he good in bed?"

          More laughter, "Yes. The best I've ever had. He'll look at me and I'll know he's remembering last night and then I'll remember and I have to close my eyes and turn away because if he keeps looking at me like that I just know I'll melt." 

          "Thanks, Ronnie." 

          "What for this time?"

          "Just for being here, just for being my friend. Uh, Ronnie?"

          "Yes, love?"

          "You do know that everything I've told you, you're sworn to secrecy about; don't utter a word, don't even think about it. It's that serious."

          "How many other people know what you told me?"

          "Not many."

          "Your secret is safe with me darling, and you know I'd do anything to help you. I'd make a pretty good spy myself. Just say the word and I'll do anything.  But for now..." Ronnie took her friend by the arm and dragged her up, "…let's go see what Martha's made for tea."  


	8. Second Sighting

London Towne

Chapter 8: A Second Sighting

Bill was dozing, a favorite past time of his. Bill's luck wasn't quite with him tonight and he'd had to fold early on, out of money. He'd thought about hitting the sack but figured he'd just wander over to couch and watch TV with the others for a while. He tipped his hat over his eyes and folded his hands across his stomach. Yep, dozing was a great way to pass the time. Cover Girl had control of the TV. Beach had made some sort of comment she'd taken offense at, as usual, so just for spite she had it tuned in to some British version of Entertainment Tonight. He listened to the ensuing argument with half an ear but something must of caught his attention because all of a sudden he wasn't dozing any more he was wide awake. He looked around; trying to figure out what had triggered his instincts. He scanned the room, argument still going on, card game still going on, holy…the television.

"Shut your traps, both of you and turn the volume up!"

Beach Head looked at Bill as if he'd lost his mind, "Turn the volume up? You actually want to hear this pansy crap?"

"I do and so does everyone else. Scarlett was on screen a second ago."

A loud chorus of questions and comments came at him but he snatched the remote and turned it up. The reporter was standing next to a stacked blonde all dressed up.

"…and who accompanied you this evening Ms. Davenport?"

"My good friends Elizabeth and Column McCullough and Jonathan Edwards are here with me to celebrate tonight. Without their generous support we would not be able to continue to help these young girls make a better life for themselves."

They went on about designers and who she was wearing before they panned out and sure enough, for three short seconds the room was absolutely silent. No one breathed, no one spoke. The camera panned away from Ms. Davenport's group and zoomed in on some other celebrity. But they'd all seen her. Dressed to the nines, arm around an older gentleman, scanning the people constantly as if waiting for trouble.

Beach Head broke the silence first, "We need to find out where they are and what they're doing. Duke is still in DC. I'll tell Flint."

People had instantly jumped into action. By the time Flint arrived in the control room the place was a sea of activity, people calling back and forth to each other, television coverage being aired in a loop on the large monitor.

"All right, I'm here. If it's not a Cobra attack what's the emergency that couldn't wait?"

Beach Head nodded to the large, central monitor, "There's something you need to see."

Flint watched impatiently as some entertainment photographer interviewed a woman about her damn dress and who had designed it. A moment later his heart stopped along with the coverage, frozen on the screen, there she was. Scarlett. The camera man had zoomed in briefly on Scarlett and the two gentlemen she was standing with, one mid-thirties, the other an older man, slightly portly, not quite as tall as Scarlett was, certainly not when she was wearing heels. She had her arm through his.

"Play it in slow motion. Back it up a frame and start from where the camera first hits her."

Lady Jaye spoke up, "She's scanning the crowd, concentrating on the immediate area. And the younger man, he's talking to someone on the older man's other side. We'll have to get the original camera feed but I'd bet the man on the other side is her backup. But who's the old man?"

Dial Tone popped up, "He's a British citizen, Column McCullough. We have an address but it's old. One relation, a granddaughter, Elizabeth McCullough. Hmm…her bio is blocked. I'm searching all the databases we have access to. Here's an older article. It looks like Scarlett. She's quite a bit younger in this picture but she's next to Veronica Davenport. Ms. Davenport has just won a medal in an equestrian event."

"Keep digging, I want to know everything there is to know about Ms. Veronica Davenport, Column McCullough, Jonathan Edwards, and Elizabeth McCullough, specifically what she's doing, how long has she been doing it, and how often."

Jaye glanced around, worried. This was getting out of hand. If they didn't put a lid on it then soon talk of rescue missions and other such things would pop up and Jaye figured her own little mission would be jeopardized. Jaye pulled Flint aside.

"You've got to calm this down." She urged him

"Why? It's the first solid lead we've had since she disappeared. Finally when Duke gets back from a mission I can give him some positive news."

"Please, Flint. Just calm everyone down now before it's too late. I'll explain later. Please."

Flint took a good look at his girlfriend. She had something up her sleeve. He didn't know what but he intended to find out, "All right people, unless you are actively involved in tracking down a lead get back to whatever it is you were doing. We can't rush to London or wherever without more Intel. You're all going to need to be rested and alert when it's time to move. I'll update you in the morning."

Meanwhile Scarlett was doing her job, just not the job she wished she were doing. She glanced over at Stevens, who was scanning the crowd, watching for trouble just like she was doing.

"Cheer up, darling, I'm sure everything will go just fine," the man she called grandfather, Column McCullough, smiled at her, patting her hand.

They had briefed him as usual on what to do, what to say. He knew the plan and played his part just as he always did. Maybe it was the cameras rolling that made her feel as if they were being watched, worse that they were playing straight into the stalker's hand.

Stevens chided her, "Smile, you're on camera."

"Why do I have to be on camera and not you?"

"I'm no one. You've had your picture taken before. If someone worked hard enough, long enough, they'd find your picture with your name attached to it. Who knows, maybe they already did and this has nothing to do with grandfather or Elliot."

The thought put a chill down her spine, "If you really thought this was all a charade to get me here you would never have called in the first place."

"I might would have apprised you of the situation."

"No, you wouldn't have. You'd have known I'd be here at the drop of a

hat."

"There isn't a way to know for sure. At least not until the stalker is caught."

Grandfather coughed politely, "Children, we're at a party, let's have fun, shall we. Stop bickering and relax. I'm sure everything will be fine. It always turns out right in the end."

Later that night Lady Jaye's small group of conspirators had assembled in her quarters to discuss the latest revelation in their investigation and decide upon a course of action. This time an irate Flint was among them.

Barbeque knocked on Jaye's door only to find Flint answering it. "Hi, Flint. How's it going?"

Flint growled, "Get in here. She told me everything. What I want to know is why you didn't come to me in the first place. Duke should have been told."

Bill walked in behind Barbeque and shut the door, "Well partner, don't you think he'd be a might bit hard to handle if he knew Barbeque saw her in Atlanta. We all knew she wouldn't be there long enough to count."

Flint thought for a moment and racked his hands through his hair,

"Yeah." He sighed, "I suppose you're right."

Jaye came out of her room, "Is everyone here?"

"Everyone is present and accounted for, little lady. So what's next?"

Jaye sat down in a chair so she could face everyone, "For those of you who were not in the rec room at the time I'll reiterate what happened. Bill spotted Scarlett on an entertainment show. A reporter was covering a charity ball in London and we got a good shot of Scarlett. She was seen with a woman she'd been photographed with before, Veronica Davenport, and three men. Two we have on camera and have identified as Jonathan Edwards and Column McCullough. She was with Column McCullough when Barbeque saw her in Atlanta. We have an old but possible still accurate address for Mr. McCullough. We know whatever she's up to it has to do with protecting Mr. McCullough. We don't know the identity of the third man but assume he's acting as her backup."

They all looked towards Jaye. "Well. There's only one thing we can do."

Bill let out a whoop, mirroring everyone's growing excitement, "All right, partners, we're headed to London!"


End file.
